you are a place in a story
by dharkephoenyx
Summary: A series of Finchel drabbles, that don't particularly belong to a 'verse of my current stories. AU, future and crossover, all here.
1. three times the love

**A/N: So I've been writing a couple of drabbles on tumblr, picture prompts from ****_finchelphotoprompts - _****similar concept of my own picture prompts, but these are totally safe for work, fluffy, lovely stories you can go goo-goo at, collectively awwww and swoon. (I've reread a few and they're totally fluffy.) **

**There's also a few drabbles from random pictures not part of the prompts (mine and from tumblr) and a few crossover drabbles. Basically, any drabble that doesn't fall into a verse already noted in my current fics, goes here. AU, crossover, futurefic - finchel of all sorts and types. I'll add further notes to the individual stories as I go. They're all random, so don't read expecting them to follow a timeline.**

**As always, thanks to the lovely folks at tumblr and here at who read, review, correct, badger, complain and cuss, because honestly, if none of you liked these, I'd have stopped writing a long time ago.**

**Disclaimer: Glee, nor the pictures used are not mine. I do claim the nonsense though, that's all my genius.**

* * *

_three times the love (futurefic Finchel)_

_Pic here: bit dot ly/R74fWJ_

He tries to oh so stealthily creep into the house but he's not two steps in the door when something squeaks under his feet. He pauses and waits to see if anyone hears him.

He's rarely home on Sundays but tomorrow is the twins' birthday so he sort of twisted Nelson's arm to work his shift tomorrow. Which means he'll have a 48 hr shift when he goes back on Tuesday. It's worth it though.

Rachel peeks her head around the corner, holding back Bread (listen, his daughter named the Bullmastiff, he had nothing to do with it), the latter looks like he's unimpressed to see him but his wife's face lights up like a Christmas tree.

Before she can move, two identical heads of curly hair poke out from underneath Bread's belly, there's some squeaking and a pink-and-black- striped blur and a pale green blur flash towards him, identical squeals of _Daddy! _before they launch themselves into his arms.

"Daddy! You're here!"

He barely has a hold on Mel and Sera before Piper's running towards him, hopping onto his back.

Over the chatter of his daughters, Bread starts barking and its fricking loud. He smiles as the little girls in his arms start talking a mile a minute about cupcakes and party hats and Piper's telling him about football practice.

Rachel leans against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, this little smile on her face.

_Thank you_, she mouths.

_I love you_, he mouths back and winks.

"Daddy!" Sera taps him on the forehead.

"Are you listening?" Her twin asks.

"Yes I am. Something about princess hats?"

"I want to be Ariel!" That'd be Seraphine.

"And I want to be Jasmine!" Melody shrieks happily.

He looks around at Piper, who's blowing her cheeks out with her eyes crossed. He chuckles.

"What about you Piped Piper?"

"It's their birthday, I just want cake." She shrugs.

Laughing, he falls against the couch, his three girls in his arms, listening attentively as his daughters all tell him their birthday plans, Bread staring at them with his tail thumping loudly on the floor.

Truthfully, the stationhouse would be a lot more quiet, granted there were no emergencies, but Sundays off are rare for him. And even if he didn't have two extra special reasons to be home today, he was pretty sure he would rather be nowhere else but here.

* * *

**A/N2: daddy!Finn and firefighter!Finn feels together.. always a win. Reviews are love :)**


	2. a father's love

**A/N: Future Finchel and Burt! Pic here: ****bit dot ly/NuRPbS**

* * *

_a father's love_

"What's he doing?"

"Shhh! Finn!"

He clamps his mouth shut and gives her a funny look. Rachel just sticks her tongue out at him and turns to peek back through the door.

Burt is sitting on a chair in Finn's room, rocking his grandson to sleep. He's all smiles as he stares down at the baby, oblivious to his audience peeking in through the door.

"So. We haven't had a lot of time to talk. Your mom and dad, they like to keep you for themselves. Who wouldn't? You're a beautiful lil baby, aren't you Chris?"

The baby in Burt's hands just looks up at him, he's barely a month old so of course, he _can't _talk back to his grandpa.

Finn sticks his head over his wife's and she looks up, kissing him on his chin as they go back to eavesdropping.

"Now, you're so special you have four grandfathers! Which is kinda cool because that way you'll get to get into a lot of different stuff. Like, I love cars and your grandpop LeRoy, he's good with numbers and flowers, your grandma Carole loves his petunias. And your papa Hiram, he's a very good cook and the best damn lawyer in Ohio."

Rachel smiles and Finn drops a kiss onto her hair.

"But the man you were named after, your father's father, Christopher, now Chris Hudson was a great man."

Finn sucks in a breath and Rachel looks up at him, he looks down at her, gives her a small smile and wraps his arm around her shoulder.

"Yea, I didn't get to meet him, but he was a good man. He had to be, look at what a fine man your daddy is. And I know if he were here, he'd be proud, so proud of him, just like I am. And me, I'm not your real grandpa, not by blood, but that doesn't matter. Because I love your daddy like he was my own son, and you lil Chris, I love you like you're my own grandbaby."

Rachel has to press her hands to her mouth to stifle a sob. She doesn't want to interrupt Burt.

"I can't wait until my own son has his own kids. I already know your Uncle Kurt spoils you rotten. But I'm glad I have you. I'm really glad you're here, you know? And I know Chris, your granddaddy would be glad too. Now, I don't exactly remember how this baby stuff works, so you gotta take it easy on me, OK? And I'm not a fan of the messy diapers, but I'll do my best."

"Your grandma's a special lady, the best, well, after your mommy, that little lady is a gem. She's beautiful Chris, and with a voice like an angel, you can see why your daddy loves her. And your daddy's kinda cool too. Well, except for the Columbia Lions thing. You're a Buckeyes baby, OK. That's my alma mater and that was your grandfather's alma mater. Go Buckeyes. Your daddy is a right fool for thinking Columbia's better."

Burt snorts and she has to hide her sniffles in Finn's shoulder.

"Anything you wanna know about your family, just ask me or your grandma and your grandfathers too. Anything. And you gotta be a good boy, no back talking or misbehavin', I'm old school, your mother might not want to spank you, but I will. But you're a good baby, aren't you Chris? A little precious angel."

He starts crooning an old nursery rhyme, rocking the baby in his hands, and Rachel inches away, tugging Finn with her.

They sit on the stairs, hands around each other while Finn sniffles quietly.

"You know we can never deny Burt babysitting duties ever again, right?" she chuckles.

Finn laughs. "No. I bet Chris is gonna grow up loving his grandfather."

"All four of them." She whispers.

Finn nods. "I'm gonna have to have a talk with Chris when he's older though." He wipes the tears from his face, looking down on her. He steals a kiss and grins.

"He's a Columbia baby through and through, seeing as though that's where I met his mother and all."

* * *

**A/N2: I sort of have a soft spot for Burt, I don't see him as Finn's stepfather, he's his father, through and through. He's not replacing Chris Hudson, it's OK to have two dads :)**


	3. big sisters and picnics

**A/N: Future Finchel and an early morning walk. Pic here: bit dot ly/N5MJTy**

* * *

_big sisters and picnics_

For some strange reason, Ava was _insistent _on going for an early morning walk. With mommy.

Really, she was tired, the baby kept kicking all last night and she just wants the next month to hurry up and get here. Don't get her wrong, she loves being a mother and being pregnant, but she kinda misses being able to see her feet, you know. Pedicures and her cute little dresses. Yeah, it's bittersweet.

So, getting up at the crack of dawn with a much too energetic four-year old. Not something she really wants to do.

She tries to snuggle deeper into the covers as Ava chatters away between them.

She opens her eyes and looks at Finn. He's grinning like a fool as he watches her, a firm hand around Ava, who's been known to topple off beds for no reason. She's like her father in that regard, no grace whatsoever. Which is funny, since she's a miniature carbon copy of Rachel, minus the eyes though.

Amber-coloured eyes sparkle at her from dimpled cheeks. "Momma, the sun's up."

"I can see that baby, it's very early."

"Uh huh. Come on, wanna go for a walk."

"But Ava, momma's not awake yet."

"Please mommy. Pretty please?" she pleads.

Rachel looks at her husband. "Your daughter does not understand the concept of sleep, does she?"

"Why is it she's my daughter when she wants to you to do something you don't want to do?"

She looks at him and slowly lifts an eyebrow. Finn chuckles.

"Come on, I'll come with."

She tries to protest, but they tag-team her with the identical sad puppy eyes and she agrees, changing into a flowery top and jeans shorts when Finn goes to change their daughter out of her pyjamas. Everyone else is asleep when they leave and Ava actually puts her finger to her lips, tiptoeing towards the front door.

"Shhh, we have to be very quiet."

Finn chuckles and ushers them out, dropping his hand over Rachel's mouth when she yawns.

Ava's chatter continues their entire walk. They're back in Lima for Carole's birthday and for once Rachel is not missing the city. This early in the morning, it's warm, and clear and fresh, green grass everywhere. They're actually just walking by the field that's near the house. Any further and Finn will have to carry her back home.

Ava is singing merrily between them, hopping and skipping over cracks in the side walk and flower patches.

Suddenly she stops talking and crawls onto an overturned pail near the fence they're passing.

"Ava, get down from there." Finn says.

"In a minute Daddy." She huffs. She turns to Rachel and puts her hands on her belly.

"See baby. This is where me and momma and grandma had a picnic last year! It's very pretty."

Rachel turns questioning eyes to Finn.

"When you were sleeping she was singing to the baby. Telling her she was going to show her a special place." His eyes twinkle as he looks down at her, and they both turn their attention back to Ava, who's still talking to Rachel's belly.

She clearly inherited her enthusiasm and loquacity from her mother. Of course.

"And when you come out of momma we're gonna have a picnic here too. And I'm gonna show you how to make daisy chains like momma, she's very good. Ooooh! Momma is soooo pretty and she sounds so nice when she sings. She's the best mommy in the whole world!"

Ava stretches her arms wide as she says this and jumps down from the pan, linking her hand with her parents again.

"Can we have pancakes for breakfast when we get back?"

Rachel can't exactly speak, so it's Finn who says, "Course! Blueberry or chocolate chip?"

"Blueberry!" The little girl squeals happily. "Can you make it in bunny ears momma?"

Rachel nods, her face wet and Ava keeps on skipping happily between them.

"Hey, you alright?"

She turns her face to Finn and nods, looking back at the miniature version of her skipping along.

She loves being a mother and times like these she loves being pregnant. After all, the validation of a four year old that you're the best mother ever is a whole lot better than summer dresses and home pedicures.

* * *

**A/N2: A pregnant Rachel is always adorable.. as is a mini-me Rachel in her daughter.**


	4. the future, superstars and baby shoes

**A/N: Future finchel and a surprise. Pic here: bit dot ly/OsgcRB**

* * *

_the future, superstars and baby shoes_

Rachel is _tiny._

Like, his thumbs pressed together, reaches from one side of her waist to the other. She's so small. And beautiful.

He watches her as she towels off from her shower; she meets his eyes in the mirror and furrows her brow as he just keeps looking at her.

"Come to bed." He murmurs.

"I will in a second. Can I get dressed first?" She jokes.

"No." He answers quietly. She looks over her shoulder at him and he beckons her to him.

She tosses her towel over the bathroom door and then crawls over the bed to curl her body besides his, smelling like lavender and honeysuckle and _Rachel, _his favourite smell in the world. Everything is wrapped up in that smell: Christmas cookies, rainy nights spent on the living room floor reading or playing Uno, Broadway songs belted out to a packed theatre, notebooks filled with scribbles of little children. It's home to him; Rachel is his home.

Life too.

He turns to face her, pushing her hair behind her shoulder. It's gotten longer, falling way down her back, the silky brunette strands makes her skin look like honey. Or maybe it's the glow, either way, she looks radiant.

"Hi." She turns his eyes to her using the tip of her finger.

He smiles and dips his head, kissing it. "Hi."

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Everything's fine, perfect almost."

"Perfect?"

His smile widens and he leans forward quickly to brush his lips against hers. "Yes." He whispers against her lips.

She pushes him back and rolls them, so she's straddling his hips over his shorts.

He runs his hands over her legs and up her thighs, his fingers brushing over her bottom.

"You're not scared?"

He looks up at her, worrying at her bottom lip, big, bright, brown eyes looking down on him. He reaches his hand up to tug her lip free, his thumb soothing.

"Terrified." He replies.

Their voices are low, quiet. They barely said two words to each other since getting home. She went straight to the bathroom and he just crawled into bed. It wasn't a bad thing, they just had to process the news separately, to appreciate it together.

And he was terrified to be honest. Terrified of his own drawbacks. But Rachel, he was sure, would be a superstar as always.

"Me too." Rachel whispers. She grabs his hands between both of hers and presses her lips to them.

"Why?"

She shrugs lightly. He shouldn't have asked, because he already knows.

"Hey." He grips her chin lightly, pulling her eyes to his. "You're not your mother. She made her choice a long time ago. And you're making yours now. You're going to be a wonderful mother."

She gives him a timid smile, then does the same thing he did earlier, she bends her head to press a kiss to his knuckles.

"You're gonna be an awesome dad too. You know that right?"

He didn't. But if she believes in him, like she always has, he figures he can do his best on being just that.

He cradles his hands to her abdomen, the skin still firm and taut under his palms. She was carrying precious cargo, the beauty of life they made together. In eight short months, their son or daughter would be here with them, kicking and hollering. He was pretty sure their kid would inherit Rachel's lungs, it was a given.

His hands roam over her stomach, his fingers caressing her skin, and he smiles, he was gonna be a dad.

"You know I love you right?" He looks up at her and her smile is almost blinding, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she nods.

"Yea, you might have told me once or twice."

He chuckles and rolls them over, sliding down her chest to hover his lips over her belly. "Hi baby, it's daddy. I love you too and you're gonna love mommy so much."

Rachel giggles and tugs him up to her, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You're such a clown."

"And yet you still love me." He smirks.

"Yeah?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah." He nods and bends to kiss her.

"Yeah." She breathes against his lips, burying her fingers in his hair.

* * *

**A/N2: pregnant!Finchel is always gold!**


	5. pride & baby

**A/N: Future Finchel where Finn refelcts. Pic here: bit dot ly/OFS2cg**

* * *

_pride & baby_

There are a few things in his life he is extremely proud of.

Sticking up for his stepbrother in high school. Getting into _and_ graduating from college. Getting his father's discharge changed to honourable. Getting Rachel to fall in love with him again after he broke her heart that day on the train (it was the hardest thing he ever had to do, and getting her to forgive him came a close second.) The day she promised to love him for the rest of her life and before her rabbi and a bunch of people he didn't even remember being there she gave him a simple gold band to honour that promise.

And Ryan.

For everything he's ever done, in this moment, right now, he's the proudest.

He honestly doesn't think he can love someone the way he loves her.

He loves his mother, she's the first person to show him what love meant, and he knows he's caused her grief over the years, but the look in her eyes every time when she sees him, his heart literally swells with emotion; and that's pretty much the feeling he gets when he looks at his daughter in his arms.

His wife is the best person he knows. Flaws and all. And after spending ten years of his life loving her, he loves her more every second. For a multitude of reasons, really. But for all his mistakes and bad ideas, even when she hated him, she supported him, she loved him and he owes her the world.

His daughter though? Ryan is the embodiment of his heart and the love he and Rachel share. The best part of them wrapped up nicely in 6lbs, 8oz of beautiful baby. It was like God took everything that was good and perfect and beautiful and pure and made _her_.

Designed her. Created this magnificent specimen of life and innocence and placed her in his arms.

He's amazed every time he looks at her.

She's barely a day old, and Ryan has basically shifted everyone else to a supporting role in her life. She's like a miniature Rachel already, tiny in his arms, same olive toned skin and of course she came out screaming.

He's looking forward to discovering who she is, the parts that make her a Hudson, if she's going to be diva like her mommy or quiet like he is. Either way, he's pretty sure she's bound to be a handful.

Beside him, Rachel stirs, stretching her hands her hands over her head.

He smiles at her when her eyes meet his.

"Hey."

She yawns and smiles behind her hands over mouth.

"You two OK?"

He nods, looking down at Ryan's tiny fingers wrapped around his, her little mouth puckering when she yawns.

"She's been very quiet. So _unlike_ her mother."

Rachel snickers. "Very funny."

Maybe Ryan hears her because just then she gives a piercing cry, kicking her legs and begins to fuss in his hands.

"I stand corrected." He gets up and walks over to his wife, carefully placing their daughter in her arms.

Rachel settles Ryan in the crook of her elbow and the baby quiets immediately. He runs his fingers over the downy hair on her head, trying to smooth down the errant cowlick at the back.

It's funny, actually. He can remember his mother complaining about getting his hair to behave, and even now, the back of his hair is as stubborn as ever.

He's kind of happy that at least that's one thing they have in common so soon.

* * *

**A/N: I regret to inform you there will be more than a few daddy!Finn feels in these drabbles. Likey?**


	6. generation strong

**A/N: Future Finchel in a concert hall. Pic here: bit dot ly/R7aZUm**

* * *

_generation strong_

She can barely sit still, she's that excited.

Finn's hand closes over her knee and she turns her head to look at him, his eyes twinkling back at her. She curls her palm around his on her knee and turns back to the stage.

The theatre is still empty because the show is actually tonight, but she was impatient and finally Channar agreed to bring her with her to rehearsal. It's bittersweet, though. How long ago was that her on stage? These days her legs don't work that well to take her through all the complicated dance moves her granddaughter does so flawlessly, but her feet still tap out the familiar rhythm. Old bones be damned.

Pride blossoms in her chest and she grins, glancing sidelong at her husband, pretty sure they're thinking the same thing.

"She reminds me of you, Rach. So flawless. So beautiful. So tiny." Finn chuckles and brings her hand to his lips and presses a kiss to it.

"Don't let her hear you say that, you know how sensitive she is about her height, Finn. I was too."

Finn chuckles again and pats her hand then shakes his head, turning back to the petite woman flitting around stage. "Still a firecracker, sweetheart."

Channar's voice sounds out loud and powerful as she dances and Rachel is rooted to her chair as she listens. Her granddaughter is amazing, seriously, and she can remember the days when that was her on stage, but she's not that proud that she can't admit her granddaughter is better than her.

She can feel the song resonating through her body, the words and melody wrapping around her, her chest swelling in pride in fascination for the woman singing on stage. Channar was a Berry, never mind the Hudson last name.

"I think I know now what you meant when you said you felt my voice here." She murmurs quietly, lifting her hand to her heart. She looks back as her granddaughter stands on stage, laughing with her co-stars and back to her husband.

Finn smiles, the smile she's gotten to see every day for almost 70 years, the side of his mouth pulling up into that lopsided smile that had girls chasing him around the OSU campus.

He nods, and pulls her closer to him, tucking her head under his chin. Channar waves at them then jumps down off stage, pulling a timid looking man and a beaming girl towards her grandparents. Finn helps his wife to stand, handing her the cane she claims she never needs as they make their way to the aisle.

"Grammy, this is Nellie and Nathan. They actually don't believe that you were the actress that revived the Elphalba role back in 2015."

Beside her Finn chuckles and wraps his arm around her as Rachel frowns. There has never been another Rachel Berry in 80 years. How hard is that to believe?

She pulls herself up to her full height, years of dancing and perfect poise has not diminished her stature over the years and she narrows her eyes at the two people in front of her. Channar stands beside her, grinning broadly.

She lifts a hand and points to a row of portraits along NYADA's hallway, _Rachel Hudson _in bright gold letters beneath her grinning face. Her hair was longer then but it's her, nose and all.

Nellie's eyes get wide as she stares at the portrait and back to a smug Rachel. She squeals suddenly and runs off to the dressing room, screaming about legend, autograph and some other nonsense.

Finn looks at her and shrugs, throwing his arm around his granddaughter. Nathan shakes her hand, trying to flatter her, begging her to sing something for them.

Rachel has never been one to turn down a request for a performance. And she does, pulling Channar beside her, singing an old Journey song as she stares at Finn.

Her voice has waned over the years, and she's not as great as Channar now, but she's almost as good as she was back then.

She finishes to resounding applause, as a few other of her granddaughter's castmates are peeking out from behind the curtain and Nellie stands in front her with a look of positive awe on her face. She's crying actually, her face wet as she stares at Rachel.

One by one her granddaughter's friends come up to shake her hand and ask for an autograph and afterwards when she goes off to meet her daughter and Kurt's daughters for her birthday dinner her husband cups her cheek in his hands, amber eyes shining down at her.

"You know, it still does. It was always yours."

* * *

**A/N: Finn & Rachel in their 80s and very much in love. I want that :)**


	7. happy sounds

**A/N: Future Finchel where Finn gives his son a bath. Pic here: bit dot ly/N5UzMU**

* * *

_happy sounds_

iggling from their bathroom alerts her to where her boys are in the house.

She stashes her bag and shoes on the floor beside the bed and tiptoes quietly towards them. Finn is doing this silly dance move that Liam giggles at, his cheeks dimpling as he gazes happily up at his father. And Liam is sitting in their face basin, clapping his hands and the bubbles as they float up around him.

_ABC  
Easy as  
one, two, three  
Or simple as  
Do re mi  
ABC, one, two, three, baby, you and me! _

Liam gurgles every time Finn says ABC, and he's only six months, does he understand?

_ABC  
Easy as  
one, two, three _

Liam squeals again and it almost sounds as if he's _trying _to sing too.

She stands there, watching her husband dance, and Liam clapping and she starts singing too (Finn's voice is infectious and really, she can't resist a song with him, and yes, his dance moves have yet to improve).

Finn stops dancing when he turns his head to see her, blushing at her wink.

Her son's head swivels around when he hears her and Liam starts slapping the water around him happily, almost leaning out of the sink. Finn's large hands grab onto him safely and she bends to touch her nose to her son's, accepting his wet kisses.

He launches himself out of the sink and into her arms and Finn laughs, grabbing a towel to wrap around Liam.

_ABC, one, two, three, baby, you and me! _

Liam beams, tapping his hands against her cheek when she sings and Finn drops a kiss on her hair and onto their son's.

Liam is a miniature Finn, through and through, he's big already with an appetite that almost rivals his father's, big amber eyes and that cowlick at the back of his head that refuses to behave. And music, it's his favourite thing in the world, she's sure (aside from Mommy's singing, and OK, fine, Daddy's too) and as she towels him dry, Finn keeps on singing and Liam keeps on happily kicking his little feet, squealing every now and then, adding to their little orchestra.

* * *

**A/N: Baby Finchel.. all hail the feels :)**


	8. comfort in the silence

**A/N: AU Finchel where Finn watches his babies sleeping. Pic here: bit dot ly/Pu2Whm**

* * *

_comfort in the silence_

If there's one thing he knows about his house – it's that its never quiet.

Rachel sings all the time, whether for practice or putting their kids to sleep, Kurt is always stopping by (the only reason Kurt even has a key is because when she was pregnant with Sera, Rachel had a panic attack and couldn't move from the floor and he was all the way in Brooklyn out on a call and well, Kurt kicked his door in) and Artie lives a few streets over, so he's usually almost always there.

Brittany works with Rachel at the workshop in the city, so she's always coming by too with updates and pointers and needing Rachel input, and stuff. And then Quinn, she's always calling Rachel from wherever in the world she is, and she's managed to get his wife interested in photography too, and he's used to Rachel doing whatever she needs to do while she talks to Quinn in speakerphone.

Plus, Santana had insisted Rachel get a dog after the house had almost been broken into one evening when they were out. He'd agreed, as well as having Mercedes help him install a security system.

Bottom line, if he's in the house, it's always loud, for one reason or the other. He loves it though.

So when he drags himself out of bed before work that Tuesday afternoon, he was immediately curious as to the absence of the usual noise.

He'd kissed his daughters good night when he came in from work at midnight, forcing Rachel out of her office and into bed (she'd be up all night until one of the girls woke if he'd left her there) and barely moved when she'd gotten up to get Cady screaming from her crib earlier in the morning.

The house is miraculously quiet, a delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen and soft humming from the second bedroom down the hall from theirs. He tiptoes as quietly as he can towards the room, expertly dodging scattered dolls and plastic toys littered along the hallway.

Rachel is sitting on the bedroom floor, cross-legged with two books spread open on her lap and a mass of pictures scattered around her.

Sera and Cady are sound asleep on the bed, Cady swaddled up tightly in blankets. It's quiet except for his daughters' soft breathing and Rachel's low humming.

It's a miracle really. This is a rarity in their house.

Rachel taps her cheek with the pen, sorting through the pictures at her feet, her face lighting up when her fingers snatch a picture, she grabs a baby book – Sera's, by the big loopy pink letters on the cover– and starts jotting down notes in her swirly handwriting.

He chuckles and slides down to the ground by the doorway.

"Whatcha got there?"

Rachel jumps slightly and turns her head, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You scared me!" she whispers.

He shrugs, giving her her favourite dimpled smile.

She sticks her tongue out at him cheekily, turning back to the pictures in front of her. "It's the girls' baby books. I need to update them, I haven't written anything in there in almost two months."

She turns stern eyes at him. "And neither have you."

(He'd forgotten.)

He shakes his head, running his fingers over her calf. "C'mon Rach. You and I both know my chicken scratch would ruin the aesthetics of those books."

Rachel's nose crinkles as she frowns.

"You're right. I'll update it myself."

Flattery. Works every time.

He smiles winningly at her.

"They been sleeping for long?" He nods over to the sleeping girls.

Rachel shakes her head, bending back to the books in her lap. "About two hours now. I just put the last of the laundry in and there's lasagna cooling in the oven."

On cue, his belly starts growling. (Mike was good at everything else _but _cooking and he was their resident chef at the firehouse.)

Rachel laughs quietly, shaking her head. "Go get your own food mister. I want to finish this before San gets here."

He sticks his tongue out at her, rubbing his thumb along her foot.

"You should take a picture. When was the last time they've both been asleep like this? Together? In the middle of the day?"

She looks from him to their daughters.

Sera was already two but was at the age where everywhere Momma went, she went. Everything Momma did, she did. And Cady, Cady at five months just loves to squeal. About everything. And if Rachel sang, they sang. He was living in a house full of superstars, and he didn't mind it one bit.

Rachel beams, grinning widely at him before she jumps up, kissing his forehead as she hurries towards the den, no doubt for the camera she's usually attached to.

He leans back against the wall, enjoying the view of his daughters asleep. You'd never know by just looking at them that they're equal parts him and Rachel in personality too – very loud, very happy, giggly baby girls.

He likes the quiet; it's something he doesn't get much of.

Sera's mouth puckers in her sleep and Cady just turns her head to the other side, sighing softly. It really is a moment worth capturing.

Before Rachel can hurry back though, the front door bangs open, and Puck hollers for him, Santana muttering something in Spanish. Rachel stalks from the den, passing him and stomps to the living room. He covers his mouth in laughter, watching as his tiny wife shakes her fist at their best friends.

On the bed, Cady suddenly starts wailing and Rachel's fist starts shaking faster and Puck takes a step back.

He gets to his feet, picking Cady from the bed before Sera can wake up. He's too late, big amber eyes blink sleepily at him as she stretches her small body.

Rachel's smile stretches over Sera's face as his daughter crawls over to him, squealing loudly.

"Daddy!"

* * *

**A/N2: daddy!Finn FTW!**


	9. firestarter

**A/N: AU Finchel where Finn may or may not be a Greek God; photo from ****_finchelphotoprompts_**** Pic here: bit dot ly/TKgIPN**

* * *

_firestarter_

She was pretty sure she was dreaming.

Yea, that had to be it. Because things like this just don't happen in normal, every day life.

But the hand was moving closer towards her. She wants to move but her legs seem rooted to the spot, but not from fear though. Intrigue? Finn Hudson has always been a mystery to her, ever since the first time she saw him.

She doesn't think he'll ever hurt her, but still.

Hand. On. Fire.

Finn smiles shyly at her, his eyes on hers as his hands move closer to her. She gulps and leans away slightly from him.

Finn stops and uses his other hand, you know, the one not currently _holding a flame in his palm! _and wraps it around her hand.

Her hand looks so small in his, lost. Everything about Finn is huge, he's just this big man, with the sweetest eyes and the softest smile ever. Quite the contradiction.

His hand moves closer to her still and she panics slightly.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." He murmurs.

She looks up at him, at this half-smile lifting one side of his face, he almost looks like a little boy.

The palm on fire touches her hand, and it feels warm, like she's standing in front of a heater or holding a really hot coffee cup in her hand. It moves up her arm, warm tingles spreading over her skin, it's almost relaxing.

She looks up to Finn's eyes and he's watching her, with something like trepidation in his eyes.

She smiles back softly and it disappears completely, his smile stretching across his face. Even his dimples are beautiful. She blushes and drops her face to watch his hand on her arm again.

"How are you doing this?" she whispers.

The hand on her hand passes over her sleeve and down to the inside of her elbow.

"I don't know. I've always been able to do it since I was younger."

"Wait, like the X-men?"

Finn laughs, a husky richness that sets goosebumps over her skin which she's pretty sure has nothing to do with the fire on his fingers.

She's never liked a boy before. Leave it to her to like someone like Finn. Whatever or whoever Finn was.

But she's intrigued, remember?

Finn shakes his head and chuckles with mirth. "You've been hanging around Sam Evans too much."

Quinn's boyfriend was a comic book fan, so yes, she admits the idea sparked from his comic books.

She giggles at herself. Sparked.

Finn's hand moves slowly to cup her chin, the flames tickling her skin, like a warm breath brushing over her face.

"You're not scared of me?"

His eyes search hers, like he's almost pleading for acceptance. Like he's afraid she'll run away screaming at the top of her lungs.

She shakes her head and smiles. Finn returns it, his eyes almost shining as he stares at her.

And if she was to be completely honest, Finn looks like he's_glowing_. His eyes are shining, his skin looks brighter. He looks almost angelic. Almost like a Greek god.

Her eyes widen and she whirls around to look at the painting behind them on the library wall. And almost like Finn can read her mind, he wraps his hand on fire around hers and winks.

* * *

**A/N2: One of the fics I've tagged as making into a one-shot, after I've made some headway into my current multi-chaps.**


	10. tackle

**A/N: AU Finchel where their son plays football. Pic here: bit dot ly/S4Ys5k**

* * *

_tackle_

He has to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing out loud because, honestly, his wife will _never _change. And he loves her for it, even when she's being ridiculous. And she's quite the opposite of a typical soccer mom, you know?

"Ah, c'mon Coach, what'd you call a foul for? So he fell over, big deal!"

His son stops, turns to where they're sitting and puts his hands on his hips. It almost looks like he's about to _scold_ his mother then he just shakes his head – his helmet shifting from one side to the next – and scurries to the opposite end of the field.

"Berry. You're gonna let the other soccer moms want to sucker punch you, you know." Santana quips from behind her sunglasses.

"It's friendly competition Santana. If they can't get into the game, then that's their problem. My son's team is winning, I don't really care if the other mothers want to be sullen."

He exchanges looks with Santana and just shrugs, it's Rachel Berry. Sometimes you don't argue with Rachel Berry. Ever. Even though now she's a Hudson, she will always be Rachel Berry, competitive streak and all.

His wife jumps to her feet, clapping her hands wildly when Mason catches the ball, holding it in his small hands as he streaks towards the endzone, his little feet carrying him towards the end as quickly as possible. When he gets there he drops the ball, holds both hands in the air and does this crazy dance, much like he used to do in his final days at McKinley.

So, yea, he's never letting his son watch his old football games ever again.

"YES!"

Even Santana grins and almost everyone on the field gets to their feet cheering for the little man who just scored them a touchdown. The rest of his team all fall onto him and Rachel squeaks, grabbing on Finn's shoulder. He's a man, so he fights his wince as her fingers dig into his skin.

"Finn." She says worriedly.

"Rachel, it's just a game. Mason's fine."

She's still staring out on the field and he's pretty sure he may have to grab her from running out _onto _the field. He watches the bundle of little boys and girls and the mass of red helmets, a bit of unease creeping into his stomach as he searches for the number 5 jersey among them.

The team's coach walks over to mass of kids still cheering – and oblivious that the game is still in play – and grinning, tugs them apart.

"Back in the game kids!" He laughs.

He breathes a sigh of relief when Mason jumps up, waves and runs off to where his coach points him to.

Rachel's hand relaxes on his arm and she settles back onto her seat, craning her head to see the game.

"Hmm. I thought it was just a game, so what if he fell over?" Santana smirks, poking her in the side.

He turns his head to the side, away from the two women. He would've asked the same question, but he's lived with this woman too long to know something like that would earn him a couple night's stay on the couch, and he likes the bed in their bedroom, thank you very much.

"It's different when it's your own kid, huh?"

Rachel doesn't say anything, and sneakily he raises his hand behind her back for a high five from Santana.

"Don't think I didn't see that Finn Hudson." Rachel snaps. "I'm guessing it's OK for your son to get tackled by a bunch of six-year olds on a football field, huh?"

Crap.

* * *

**A/N: This reminds me of ****_the person happiness became :)_**


	11. the forward

**A/N: Finchel and their future. Pic here: bit dot ly/MCExZp**

* * *

_the forward_

"Rach?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Reading the map."

Finn snickers and adjusts his bag on his shoulders. "OK."

His girlfriend is convinced she knows how to read maps and he doesn't have the heart to tell her otherwise. He turns to the side and pulls out his phone and it tells him that they're about 15 minutes from the motel they're staying at. He tucks it away and turns back to her.

He's not going to say anything to her, she has this look of determination he's used to: eyebrows furrowed, tongue stuck out at the side of her mouth and she looks so adorable he just wants to kiss her.

She's concentrating though, so he doesn't.

"Alright. The exit is about three minutes that way to the left." She looks back to her map and nods confidently. "Then our motel should be about twenty minutes away if you don't walk like you're strolling in Central Park."

She looks up at him with a smirk, tucking her map back into her pocket.

He chuckles and takes her hand, tugging her along with him. This was her idea, well, actually Kurt's since he was the one who convinced her to take the summer off from auditioning and running herself tired and just to enjoy a summer in college. He wasn't complaining, he'd had enough of summer school and this three-week trip was worth it. Another week in Italy before they head back to school and work.

Rachel loved it here, giving them a detailed history of her father's family who had immigrated so long ago, practicing her accent (he was horrible and she was flawless as usual) and finding new dishes (vegan, of course) that he'd never tell her he didn't like. She was happier than he'd seen her in a long time, relaxed and carefree without the stress of auditions and classes.

They walk in silence for about three minutes before Rachel tugs on his hand, pulling him to a stop. "Finn."

He looks back at her.

"Do you like it here?"

_She's _here, of course he does. "Yes. It's so different from the city, it feels like a whole new world." He smiles, the side of his mouth pulling up as he looks down at her.

She beams up at him and pushes herself onto her toes to kiss him.

"You know what we should do?" She whispers. He rubs his thumb over her bottom lip, titling his head to the side as he stares into the chocolate brown eyes he fell in love with maybe since the first time he saw her.

"What?"

"Elope."

She stares up at him, her smile wide and blinding and she's completely serious.

"Really?"

Rachel nods. He grins, and then frowns.

"You know Kurt will kill me and then you, right?"

She shrugs like that's unimportant.

"We can have another ceremony, once we've graduated and I'm already on Broadway and you're teaching. But, this trip has been nothing but incredible and I'm really glad we came and I know it's probably ridiculous but I feel like -,"

He cuts off her rambling with his lips, smiling as he drops kiss after kiss on her lips.

"Is that a yes?"

"Rachel Berry asking me to marry her? _HELL YES!" _He shouts, grabbing her by the waist and twirls her around, his voice and her laughter echoing in the tunnels around them.

He kisses her again, feeling his heart swelling in his chest. He'd always dreamed of the day when he'd propose to her, with his mother's ring, preferably in Central Park on some summer's day but this was infinitely better – even if was on the other side of the world inside ancient tunnels.

"I love you." He whispers against her lips, staring into her eyes, not wanting to let her go so soon.

She presses her palm against his cheek and nods. "I love you too."

Reluctantly, he sets her back on her feet, linking his fingers with hers as they walk. The tunnel exit is a couple yards away, bright sunlight beckoning them. He looks down at her, her face radiant as she peeks up at him.

Leaving one adventure, walking towards another.

* * *

**A/N: I need to write better Finchel proposals.**


	12. happiness abounds

**A/N: AU Finchel where Finn and his stepson get into a mess. Finchel month, week 1: children.**

* * *

_happiness abounds_

_(you might recognize this lil blue-eyed charmer :D)_

"Psst! Parker!"

The messy head of hair turns around slowly, frowning when he doesn't see anyone. He turns back around to his video game with a shrug.

"Oy! Up here!"

He swivels his head around, looking up towards the roof, his eyes widening comically as he sees his stepfather poking his head down from the attic door in the hallway.

"Dad?" Parker walks over chuckling, his hands crossed over his chest. "_What_ are you doing in the attic?"

"Hiding your mom's birthday present."

"Up there?" Parker laughs.

"Yea. We rarely come up here anyway."

"Yea, cause the door needs to be fixed, Grandpa keeps saying he'll come by to fix it, but he keeps forgetting."

"Just, don't let on to your mom OK? You know how she is with surprises. I hid it here so she couldn't find it, but knowing Rachel, even pregnant, she'd find a way."

Parker chuckles again and nods. "Alright. She'll be home in like 10 minutes, if you're still up there she'll wonder why."

Finn's look turns sheepish as he hangs his head, his hair falling from upside down.

"Well, I would come down but I yanked the ladder too hard getting it down and now it's stuck, I think a couple of the steps need replacing too. I need my toolkit to fix it. There's some board left over from the doghouse."

Parker hesitates. "Are you sure you don't want me to call Uncle Blaine? You know how you are about fixing things. Remember the kitchen sink?"

Finn glares. "One time. I _forgot _to turn the water off. That one time."

Grinning, Parker nods. "And when you were trying to build Montego's doghouse?"

Finn pushes his hair back and narrows his eyes at his stepson. "I fixed up the nursery didn't I?"

"Uncle Blaine and Uncle Artie helped." Parker deadpans. "Face it Dad, you're a big bad solider, and a helluva coach but you're for shit in the handyman department."

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Finn raises his eyebrow at Parker and his son's cheeks turn pink.

"Sorry Sir."

"Just get the toolkit would you?" Finn nods curtly and disappears back into the attic and grunting, he tries again to lower the attic steps. He manages to get it down, jumping the rest of the way. The steps are stuck, the ladder refusing to retract or slide further; he figures the pulley needs greasing.

"We need to loosen this up. I count three boards slipping so we have to change those too."

Parker frowns. "We?"

Finn levels a look at him and Parker's look brightens and he salutes and hurries outside to the garage where they stashed the leftover board from building the doghouse. He grabs the kit and a few boards then hauls them back to the living room, giving a wistful look at the paused videogame.

His father manages to disappear when he gets back so he drops the pieces of board onto the floor and uses a wrench to pull the loose boards free, two of them splintering when he gets them out. The last board is particularly tricky to get loose and when he finally yanks it out he loses his balance and promptly falls backwards.

"Gah!"

He falls onto his father's feet and Finn topples over then something crashes to the floor and both of them are suddenly covered in motor oil.

The front door bangs open and Rachel wobbles in, humming as she lugs a shopping bag on Montego's back, the dog yipping as Rachel hums.

Finn groans, his head falling with a thud onto the floor. Parker giggles, leaning against him, his hands and shorts covered with oil.

"What the -," Rachel stands in the hallway with wide eyes, her mouth moving silently as she surveys the damage to the attic door and spilled oil. She's past 8 months and can be very emotional at the slightest hiccup and an unhinged attic door with scattered boards that's supposed to be the steps and oil soaking into her floor kinda would qualify as more than just a slight hiccup.

"Ah, hmm - who did this?" She demands, resting her hands on her hips as she glares at the two of them.

Finn and Parker point simultaneously to each other.

"Tattle-tale." Finn mutters.

"Sell out." Parker snickers.

* * *

**A/N2: (I'd just seen the episode of Teen Wolf where Scott & Stiles are trying to get into detention, and one of them tossed a piece of paper at the teacher, then pointed to each other.. yeah, um. lol!**


	13. hero

**A/N: AU Finchel where Finn's the world's greatest superhero, but we don't know about it. Finchel month, week 3, crossover.**

* * *

****_hero_

**Finn Hudson **as** Clark Kent/Superman**

**Rachel Berry **as** Lois Lane**

She stares blankly as Finn hurries over to her, brushing his messy hair away from his eyes.

"Rach? You OK?"

He slides a little as he reaches out to grab her hand to pull her up, she's always found his clumsiness endearing, and butterflies flutter in her stomach when the heat of his palm warms hers.

He pulls her to her feet, turning wide eyes to the massive pile up behind her.

"How did – your car is – ahm -," He's at a loss for words, confusion clear on his face as he stares at the red VW Beetle crushed beyond recognition at the bottom on the pile of mangled cars on the Hutchinson River Pkwy.

Small explosions lit up the night sky and the loud noises of sirens racing towards them breaks her from her trance.

She was in that car, she was driving down to her fathers when another car rear-ended hers as she sat at the stoplight. She doesn't remember much else, except – someone pulling her from her seat, ripping her seatbelt away like paper, seconds before her car was pushed into the divider.

She peers at her car. By now, police and firefighters were there, traffic piled up on both sides, people coming out of their cars to stare at the accident a few feet from them. Finn tugs her out of the way, wrapping his jacket over her shoulders, she wasn't even aware she was shivering.

Someone had easily pulled her from the wreckage. She has a few scrapes and bruises and there's a cut on her chin, but nothing too serious. There's a couple of men sitting down on the side of the road, their head in their hands as they stare at the accident too. There are more people, she realizes, sitting on the side of the road, staring at the ruined cars on the road.

_Superman._

People around her start whispering.

He'd pulled people from their cars, getting them to safety before the first car had exploded.

And yep, he'd saved her again.

And was gone before she realized.

"Rachel!"

She shakes her head as Finn's warm eyes come into focus in front of her face.

"Are you alright? I think we should let the paramedic take a look at you." He says worriedly.

She shakes her head, peering over his shoulder at the pile up again. She could've died. Again.

"Are you sure?" Finn is still speaking.

She nods, wondering if everyone else was alright.

"Rach, you had me worried there. Are you sure you don't want them to check you out?"

She smiles at him. He was sweet, really. Always bringing her flowers and making sure her green tea was just the way she likes it. He was her best friend, outside of Artie and Tina, even if they worked together.

She knows he likes her, but she's too focused on her career for any distractions. And well, she's kind of interested in someone else. Even if no one really knows who he is and he disappears all the time and all she knows about him is the silly nickname the rest of New York has managed to give him. It's just a crush, really, but it must mean something if _every time _she was in danger he sorts of _always_appears. She's clumsy, yes, but every time?

In front of her, Finn frowns again.

"I'm OK, Finn." She squeezes the hand on her shoulder. "Really."

He worries too much. But she's actually glad he's here though.

The thought makes her frown._ Why _was Finn here?

She had been driving alone. And Finn lives in Yonkers. How'd he get here so fast? Before the ambulance and police?

She turns back to him, searching his eyes. He stares back at her, an easy smile on his face, head tilted to the side in curiosity.

Amber eyes peer back at her. Freckles over his nose, dimples in his cheek, scruffy jaw and all. Broad shoulders, big, soft hands. The heat of him feels familiar. Her eyes flicker to his lips and back up to his eyes.

She's seen those eyes before. She's _counted_ those freckles before. Her hand on Finn's tightens as her mind replays every time she's seen Finn, and _him._

"Rach?"

Only two people have ever called her that. The man standing in front of her.

And the one who'd saved her life earlier that night. And so many times before.

* * *

**A/N: This has also been tagged as a one-shot.**


	14. goodbye love

**A/N: AU Finchel and a difficult goodbye. Pic here: bit dot ly/NMTkjQ**

* * *

_goodbye love_

Honestly, she doesn't know how she's supposed to do this all over again. It was the worst feeling in the world.

How was she supposed to say goodbye to the one man she'd ever loved? From before she even understood what love was, when she was a just a girl in show choir, and he was just a tall, gangly football player? When she became a woman, and he became a man, it was them, together, and in love?

She was forced to say her goodbye when he put her on a train, waving his goodbye, setting her free to follow her dreams.

Well, he was being an idiot, and trying to protect her, how stupid could you get?

_You have to learn to a star, _he says.

_I'll love you forever, _he says.

_If we're meant to be together, we'll find a way, _he says.

_You have to follow your dream, _he says.

Doesn't he understand that dreams change? She _wants_ him. He was part of her new dream.

How are they supposed to find a way to be together when every day he's gone, he's somewhere fighting someone else's war? Putting himself in danger because he needs to prove he can be the man his father deserves him to be? Isn't her loving him enough? He can be the man his father would be proud of right here in New York. Or Ohio. Even LA with Puck.

She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

Even in Connecticut with Quinn. Or Oregon with Santana.

If that's what he wanted, he could have had it. He would be safe. Not away, at war. Where he could die at any moment.

She was being stupid, she knows, he could die walking down the street at any time.

But even then, it would be a lot safer for him. Even if they weren't together. It's a cruel thought, are they together even now, now that he's leaving?

She's still staring at her dorm room door. He'd just disappeared through it. Walking away with a simple _I'm sorry_. A simple _goodbye_. Breaking her heart all over again.

She loves him. He loves her. She knows that, always believed that. So why can't that be enough?

Why?

She's out the door, down the stairs and running across the courtyard before she even realizes it. Her bookbag slapping against her thigh as she runs.

"Finn!"

Its pouring buckets and she forgot her umbrella and she's soaked to the bone in three seconds, but she doesn't give a damn.

She hollers for him again, her feet slapping through puddles as she runs towards him. Standing alone at the bus stop, hands jammed inside his pockets.

Is he that thick-headed that's he gone deaf already?

_"FINN!" _She shouts louder this time, she's always been loud, and the bus is already pulling up and she sighs in relief when his head juts up and turns in her direction. He glances at the bus and then back to her, leaving the shelter of the bus stop to run to her. He's in front of her in three quick strides, holding hands over her head to block the rain.

"Rach? What is it?"

Her heart clenches at the familiar nickname. He's the only one to have ever called her that. Brody tried once. And she glared at him until he had hurriedly apologized. She tried, tried telling him that it wasn't that she _hated _the nickname, it's just. It's Finn. It's _his _name for her. He's supposed to be the only person to call her that. And it hurts. It just twists ugly and cold in her belly when she hears the name and it's not from him.

She brushes water from her face, looks up at him, and even though rain drips down his, his hair long gone, traded in for the buzz cut army recruits are made to get their first night on base, she can tell he's been crying.

She knows him. She knows he's scared, scared of what he's about to do, scared of what he's leaving behind, scared of the_ what if_.

"You come back."

He stares at her, blinking water from his eyes.

"You come back to me. You are not allowed to _die_ on me. You promised to marry me Finn Hudson. And I am holding you to that promise. I swear to God,-" her voice breaks just then, and Finn's large hands envelop her, crushing her to his chest, his tears mixing with the rain falling around them, her sobs shaking his firm chest.

He's changed so much in three months. But he's still her Finn. He may feel different, and look different, but underneath all that is the boy who became the man she would always love.

She pulls away to see his face. She has to say it, and he has to listen. Has to understand.

"I swear to God, if you don't come back to me – alive - I don't scare if you have a leg missing or part of your arm, you come back to me. All I want from you is here. Everything you are, everything I love about you." She taps his chest, beating hard and fast under her palm. "Right here."

He swipes his hand under his eyes, smiling wetly down at her.

"I love you. So, so much."

"I know. And that is reason enough to come back to me. Please. I love you, Finn."

He grasps her face in his hands, pressing his lips to hers, and she melts into his embrace, her own hands clutching as his palms burn her cheeks.

She'll wait for him. Because he's her person, and even if she follows her dream, becomes some huge star, it wouldn't be enough. She wouldn't be complete. Because he's part of her dream too.

He breathes his answer against her lips, kissing her again, ignoring the honking of the bus still idling behind him.

"I'll come back."

* * *

**A/N2: Please ignore the feels. It hurts me too :(**


	15. work

**A/N: My 2nd Monchele drabble! Pic from when they were filming in NY this week. Here: bit dot ly/OG63qp**

_**(source/from tumblr: lovecoryandlea, video from lucycaboosey)**_

* * *

_work_

"This scene, its gonna break my heart, isn't it?"

Cory doesn't say anything, just rubs his hands over her shoulder, squeezing the back of her neck affectionately. She looks up at him and he peeks down at her, trying to hide the smile on his face.

He bends to touch his lips gently to hers, then nuzzles her ear with his nose. "Yea, but I still love you anyway."

Lea giggles softly, stretching up to steal another kiss. "Think the fans are ever forgive us for this?"

He peeks behind them, at the mass of people gathered around, and drops his hand to her side, pulling her closer to him.

"They will." He replies softly.

Someone calls out to her from behind and she glances over his shoulder and sighs heavily. "Well, the show must go on."

He nods slowly then steals another kiss.

"Break a leg."

"I love you." She winks, hurrying off towards the director.

* * *

**A/N: It was an in the moment thing, and yea.**


	16. trouble

**A/N: My first loves, A Glee supernatural fic. AU Finchel where Rachel's powers get her in trouble. Finchel month, third week: crossover, Glee/Lost Girl.**

* * *

_trouble_

"Trick."

She taps the top of the bar, smiling when her grandfather pokes his head up to peer at her.

"Rachel? What are you doing here? Is your father alright?" He slips out quickly from behind the bar and grasps her hand in his.

"Where's Bo?"

"On a job. Why?" Trick frowns at her.

She looks at her grandfather and shrugs, looking away. "Nothing."

"Rachel."

She glances at her grandfather again, worrying at her bottom lip. "Sir?"

"Why are you here?"

"It's nothing too major. Besides Bo can help."

"If you're looking for your cousin then obviously you're in trouble."

"Kind of." She murmurs.

Trick crosses his arms across his chest and raises an eyebrow. "Do your fathers know where you are?"

Did her fathers know she had left New York to come see her grandfather and cousin because she had accidentally glamoured a Fae into falling in love with her? Nope.

But they did know she was roadtripping, and she did promise to check in with her grandfather if she ever passed by.

She shrugs again and Trick shakes his head and sighs tiredly, pointing to a chair at a table.

"Sit. Wait until your cousin gets here, then we'll have a chat."

She sighs, eyes downcast as she obeys her grandfather, folding her legs under her as she sat at the table near the bar.

Trick eyes her warily as he busies himself behind the bar, mumbling to himself and shaking his head as he does. She almost expects him to call his son, and if he did, her father would be on his way to get her. Immediately.

"Trick! A bottle of your finest ale!"

Her head swivels around at the trio of men entering the pub. They're all tall, one of them impossibly larger than the others, the three of them grinning as they claim seats along the bar.

The tallest one, a beautiful male with shaggy blond hair and piercing blue eyes slaps the bar loudly as her grandfather slides over a glass of brew, and the others do the same, except the last, the large man with messy brown hair, bright amber eyes and muddy boots slides his back to the shaggy blond, Dyson, she remembers him from when she used to visit her grandfather when she was younger.

"None for me thanks. After all, we're still on the clock. I'll have a cola or water please."

The large man's voice is deep, the husky timbre reaching over to her on the other side of the room and she shivers. She's never seen him before, but she's intrigued. Very.

Long fingers stroke the wood paneling running along the bar in front of him, and he smiles at Trick when he places a cold glass of coke in front him.

"Is this from a land wight?"

Trick nods, impressed as he surveys the new stranger.

"Yes. I helped one out a few years back, gifted me one of her trees as payment. Few people can recognize that kind of wood."

The last of the trio, Hale, finally speaks, his voice rich and charming, like notes of a melody. He's dark-skinned and lean, curious dark eyes glittering.

"Ah, Finn here is a wolf-shifter from Ohio. Dyson met him a few hundred years ago. He finally decided to leave the dull, country life behind. He's a new recruit at the fire station."

"Ah, welcome to The Dál Riata, safe haven and neutral ground to all Fae." Trick grins broadly and grips Finn's hand in welcome. "You have somewhere to stay?"

"Dyson offered. But I'm pretty sure he has fleas by now." Finn jokes.

The shaggy haired blond nudges him playfully, his beer spilling and quickly soaking Finn's shirt when he he does.

"Dyson! You dick!"

Trick laughs and hands him a dish towel.

"There's a room in the back, you're welcome to change there. You can stay until you find somewhere permanent if you'd like."

Finn's smile is wide and easy as he nods gratefully at her grandfather. She stares at him, at the freckles dotted over his nose, the dimple in his left cheek. He's actually beautiful. Not rugged and scarred like she assumed most wolf-shifters to look like.

"Rachel." She shakes herself from her thoughts, looking at her grandfather who stares expectantly at her.

"Can you show Finn to the back room? He can wear one of the work shirts while the brownie cleans his."

Her grandfather looks at her with a warning on his face, silently telling her to be careful. She nods at him and gets up as Finn moves to follow her and she walks up to the swinging doors that lead to the spare bedroom in Trick's basement.

Lowland, the brownie who always helps out her grandfather was watching TV, his feet perched neatly on top of the coffee table and munching happily from a box of cereal with a honey pot in front of him. Lowland merely waves at her as she passes him by.

Finn looks curiously at the Fae as he follows her. A few scattered crumbs fall to ground when Lowland waves and he holds his hand out, pointing towards the dust bin, it soars over to him and he flicks his wrist and the crumbs on the floor disappear and he sends the dustbin back into its corner.

She's seen Lowland's trick a million times.

"Does Trick only have Fae working here? Are humans allowed?" He peers down at her, towering over her easily.

She steps aside and pulls a closet open, grabbing the largest shirt she can find and hands it to the shifter. Her hand brushes his, the heat of his skin warming hers, and he narrows his eyes, tilting his head to the side.

"Are _you_ Fae?" Finn asks, unbuttoning the stained shirt.

She turns around quickly, a blush creeping over her cheeks. Behaving herself was going to be quite the task if Finn kept doing things like that. But would it hurt, to get just a taste? Just one little taste?

"Yes."

"What kind of Fae?"

Curious, wasn't he?

She peeks over her shoulder at him when he tosses the shirt towards her feet. He was all hard muscle and sinew, his shoulders and chest well-defined, skin marred by a few old scars.

"The kind that usually gets in trouble often."

Finn chuckles and smiles at her, finally buttoning the shirt, tugging it so it would loosen somewhat over his broad shoulders. She gulps and pulls her eyes from his chest to focus on his eyes. She can already feel the warmth spreading on her hands and she grits her teeth to keep the energy at bay.

"What kind of trouble?" Finn asks with a dimpled smile.

Just as she's about to answer, a loud crash sounds from upstairs, a resounding knock on the pub's door shaking the interior. She extends her senses and groans, rubbing a hand over her face.

_That_ kind of trouble.

She flits up the stairs, passing a startled Lowland as he grips his box of cereal to his chest. "Lady McCorrigan! What is that?"

"Go to the dungeons Lowland, and stay there."

She doesn't wait to see if he follows her orders, just rushes through the swing doors into the pub. Her grandfather looks back at her as she hurries in, Finn striding in behind her.

He looks over at Dyson as both of them sniff the air. "There's a frost giant outside."

Another resounding knocks hammers at the door and another table and chair fall over.

"And he can't get in. Which means someone has barred him from entry if he means to do them harm." Trick murmurs.

Crap.

She's small, has always been tiny, especially for someone of her kind and if she could shrink even smaller under her grandfather's steady glare she could.

"Rachel?"

Dyson seems to just realize she's here. Hale too, because he stares at her in surprise before grinning widely.

"Hey, it's the pixie!"

Trick glares at Hale and then looks back to her.

"Is he following you?"

She doesn't answer, just looks around the room, cringing when the frost giant hammers at the door again. As long as she was inside this building, she was safe, he wouldn't be able to enter. But that meant the others couldn't leave either.

Double crap.

* * *

**A/N: this may or may not have potential to be expanded**


	17. tied to an apology

**A/N: AU Finchel - photo here: bit . ly/NakbIB**

* * *

_tied to an apology_

Despite her resistance and arguing, Santana legit drags Rachel up the stairs and into the room.

"Sit your narrow behind here." She plops her onto the couch and stomps off, stopping near the hallway. "Don't even think of getting up because I WILL drag you back here and as unceremoniously as you can imagine. Stay."

Santana looks more upset than she is, so yes she stays put.

She comes out dragging Finn from his bedroom, his eyes narrowing as he sees her sitting on the couch and tries to shrug his best friend's hand off his arm. Santana's not having it, she digs her nails into his arm despite his protest of pain and plops him onto the couch beside Rachel.

They glare at each other and scoot to opposite ends of the couch, their backs to each other.

Santana curses in Spanish and hurries to her room. Rachel peeks over her shoulder and Finn is slouching, his hands cross over his chest as he stares at nothing ahead of him.

Santana comes back out and grabs their hands, slipping on a pair of handcuffs and standing back, hands on her hips.

_"Santana!" _They both shriek, staring at their joined hands in horror.

"Cállense!" She snaps and they both fall silent, glaring at her.

"Listen, I spent all of yesterday listening to both of you. Finn griping about how insensitive you are, trotting off to Jersey, and Rachel yakking about how you don't trust her. Y'all are staying here and sorting this crap out before I go to jail for involuntary manslaughter. I'm a lawyer, I'll get myself off."

"You don't need to latch us onto each other. Uncuff me Santana, we can discuss this like civilized people. Not criminals." Rachel tries to tug her hand free and Finn's hand flops along with hers. He gives her a look and tugs his hand back into his lap. She yelps and falls against him then catches herself, going back to the opposite side of the couch, their outstretched hands between them.

"Do I even want to know why you have these Tana?" Finn asks, eyeing the cuffs warily.

Santana snickers and rubs her hands together in glee. "Be glad it's not the fluffy pink one. Sort this out. Now." She jabs her fingers at them, the key dangling from her wrist and stomps out the front door.

"Oooh! Santana just drives me crazy sometimes." She mutters.

"You're one to talk.

She whips her head around with a scowl. "You're being very immature. Ignoring my phone calls? Talking to me through your best friend? What are you, five?"

"Oh, like jetting off to Atlantic City in the middle of exams?! Real mature, Rachel."

"It was a Friday night. I had nothing to do and Santana asked me if I wanted to tag along!"

"You still could have let me know!"

"It was a spur of the moment decision! And you were at football practice!"

"You could have left me a text or a note or something!"

"_Nothing happened!"_ She shrieks.

"Nothing, huh? So pictures popping up on Facebook of my girlfriend on top of a bar, _topless_ is nothing?! It's like I don't even know you right now!"

He throws his hands up in the air and she falls against him, her hand falling against his thigh. She smacks him and then the couch. "_I was _not _topless! _I was wearing a nude bra!"

"_But you were still topless on a bar in Atlantic City!"_

She huffs and tries to cross her arms, narrowing her eyes at him when her jerks his arm back from her. He rolls his eyes at her and turns his scowl back to the wall ahead of them.

They sit in silence on opposite sides of the couch until Rachel gets up, stumbles then yanks on their handcuffed hands and marches with her nose in the air towards his room, dragging him behind her.

He follows her silently as she stomps into the room, plopping down onto his bed. She stares up at him and he knows he probably shouldn't try sitting beside her so he uses his toes to pull Kurt's bed towards him, their end-table between them. She watches this and then lies down on his, their hands hanging in the cuffs in the space between the two ends.

She stares steadfastly at the ceiling, a glare on her face as she does, her lips pressed together.

Truth was, he really can't stay mad at her. Maybe he was just jealous because for once in a long time she took a break and went out with friends instead of driving herself crazy with auditions and rehearsals. The dancing on the bar top topless – OK, fine, in a nude bra – still rubbed him the wrong way, but Mercedes said she had enjoyed herself, and came back less stressed than when she left.

He just would have preferred if she had at least told him she was going. Without him.

"Hey."

She ignores him, staring up at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry. I was jealous. I've been trying to get you to go out and one night, one spontaneous decision you go with your friends and have fun without me."

"I am allowed to go out with friends. If you were free and had asked me, I'd have gone with you. What should it matter that I went with Cedes and Santana?" She sighs.

"It shouldn't. It doesn't. I'm an idiot."

She looks over at him, a reluctant smile pulling at her lips.

"Yes, you are. Somehow I still love you."

He curls his pinkie finger around hers, staring over at her, the side of his mouth pulling up. He tugs on their joined hands.

"C'mere."

"I'm still mad at you."

He chuckles. He can deal with that. Santana was gone, and would be for a while. He had ample time to make it up to her.

* * *

**A/N: I like when they fight :)**


	18. moment in time

**A/N: AU Finchel drabble, photo here: bit . ly/NzmHI8**

* * *

****_moment in time_

He tiptoes into their bedroom, a snoring Rachel under the covers oblivious to his entry.

It's always hard to catch her on camera lately. The second she realizes he's taping her she turns around, leaves the room or threatens to break his most treasured body part if he keeps filming.

But his mother has this thing where she asks for pictures of Rachel's growing belly every time he talks to her, and she's taken to calling every single day since they'd found out Rachel was pregnant. Two trips up to New York and daily phone calls, his kid wasn't even here yet and she was already spoilt silly by attention.

And he was forgotten.

Well, except when Rachel wants sex. Which was pretty much all the time.

He wasn't complaining. He had so much sex he had half a mind to get her pregnant as soon as this one was born. Until her mood-swings quickly changed his mind. He loves her, immensely so, but hormonal Rachel was from another world entirely.

He'd taken to taping her just for that purpose. Since she denies she's any different than she was before the pregnancy. But on camera, the woman was glowing and even more beautiful.

So when he decides instead to start documenting Rachel's pregnancy, she wasn't too pleased, but his mother was overjoyed.

Today marks another day seven months into a healthy pregnancy and even though her belly was still so small, the doctor said both mother and baby were fine.

He sits at the foot of the bed and stares at her, pulling the sheet from her and talking quietly to the camera when Rachel lifts her head to peer up at him.

"Please tell me you aren't taping me again. In bed."

He smiles winningly at her and she turns her face into the pillow groaning.

He chuckles and pulls her t-shirt – it's his actually, she'd taken to wearing his clothes to bed lately - over her swollen belly. He rubs his thumb along the outline of a small foot that pushes against the skin there. His heart does this thing where it feels like its beating too fast and swelling in his chest at the same time.

Rachel peeks out at him, snorting at the look on his face apparently.

"Are you going to put away the Flipcam now Finn?"

He gazes down at her and she frowns. "What is it?"

He doesn't reply, he tosses the camcorder aside and pushes himself down on the bed, settling his hands on her belly again, a small smile tugging at his lips when their baby kicks his hand again.

"This is beautiful." He murmurs.

Rachel pushes his hair away so she can feel his forehead. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine." He looks up at her and then back down at her belly, the kicking resuming under his hand. It's mesmerizing, seeing their baby move like this._He_ helped to create that life growing inside this woman. How fucking awesome is that?

"She likes your voice." She yawns and ruffles his hair.

He smirks at his girlfriend. "It's a she now?"

Rachel was still adamant that she didn't want to know the sex of their baby until delivery, but was convinced they were having a girl.

"Well, it sure beats calling my baby 'it'. Reminds me of that creepy Stephen King movie." She shudders and her belly shakes lightly.

"We can just find out at the next ultrasound."

"No." Rachel says stubbornly, smacking him on the shoulder. He laughs and rolls away from her.

"Now, where were we?" He points the camera towards her again.

"Finn!" Rachel shouts and throws one of the pillows towards him. "I look like a whale, _why are you recording me_?"

"Because you're beautiful, radiant and the woman carrying my firstborn. You were made for the camera babe."

"I swear to God you're lucky I love you."

She sits up on her elbow and crooks her fingers towards him. "C'mere. Let me show you how much I love you."

"Rach, we're taping this to show my mother."

"Finn, you spent two years doing TV production, I'm pretty sure you can edit this out."

"Or we can just make our own movie." He waggles his eyebrows at her.

"You don't put that camera down you won't be touching any of this." She cups her breasts in her palms and levels a look at him. "For a long time."

He tosses the camera aside and crawls up her body, his lips hovering over her belly as he does.

"You love me."

Rachel laughs and throws her arms around his neck. "Yes, I do."

* * *

**A/N2: Bossy Rachel ;-)**


	19. baby time

**A/N: Future Finchel and baby. Pic here: bit . ly/ONB23G**

* * *

****_baby time_

He knows Rachel is tired, so usually when he's home he makes sure to let her sleep as much as she can, which was kind of hard since Rachel always has their daughter in her arms. The second she starts to cry, Rachel picks her up, cuddling her to her chest and starts singing softly. Even if she's asleep in the bedroom, the minute Evie makes a peep, Rachel is in the nursery.

He tries to tell her that she's going to spoil Evie but she argues that it was perfectly normal for her to want to hold her daughter if she's crying. Matter of fact, the only time _he _gets to hold Evie is if Rachel is in the shower, not home or asleep. His two girls look beautiful together, so he doesn't argue much.

He has the next three days off, however, his Chief kinda felt sorry for him with a three-week old newborn and since its Rachel's birthday in a few days, he figures he'll just take advantage of some quality time with his wife and daughter, even if Rachel usually hogs their baby.

He's catching up on some well-deserved Modern Warfare while his two girls sleep.

The dishes are stacked way, laundry sorted (he's still not a pro on the actual washing, but he'll fold them once Rachel's done them. He has enough pink socks and underwear than he'd like to claim.) and the dog's been walked and fed when Montego starts yipping the second Evie's cries come through the baby monitor beside his feet on the coffee table. The dog's already heading towards the nursery before he's on his feet and see? Just like Rachel, the second Evie starts crying even the dog is at attention.

She's a superstar already; it's like Evie knows she has them wrapped around all her little fingers, and if she cries, immediately someone is there. He's not complaining though, his daughter is beautiful, tiny in his hands and smells like sunshine and babypowder and a little bit of Rachel_._

He picks her up, pressing his lips to her soft skin and immediately her cries wane. Miraculously, his wife hasn't reached the nursery yet. He rocks the baby in his arms as he peeks in at Rachel and she's sprawled across the bed on her belly still asleep.

"Hey bubie. What's the matter?" He whispers, heading back to the living room. He's almost got her cries down pat, so he knows she's not hungry and she doesn't need to be changed. She's only been asleep for about two hours since her mother put her down so he figures maybe she's lonely. Montego wags her tail as she follows them and curls under the coffee table watching them as he settles back on the couch.

Evie wiggles in arms, her little pink mouth wide as she yawns. He rests her on his chest and rubs her back and soon she's snoring again, her little fists balled under her cheek.

He watches her for a minute, as the rise and fall of his chest syncs with hers and its times like these he's awed that she's really here, the best part of him and Rachel. He was a wreck when Rachel first told him she was pregnant and his parents and Kurt had to reassure him that he'd make an excellent father, and that he'd get the hang of it sooner or later. He wasn't as good as Rachel when it came to almost everything but he was pretty sure that besides her mother, no one would love Evie as much as he did.

He picks up his controller after watching his daughter's sleeping features for awhile, even though he'd rather watch her than play videogames; even asleep she was fascinating.

"Finn?"

He cranes his head to look behind him and Rachel is yawning, arms stretched over her head as she stands in the doorway.

"Cover your mouth when you yawn, mama bear." He chuckles.

Rachel laughs lightly and pads over to him, scratching Montego's head as she passes her. She leans over the couch, resting her head on his and peers at Evie curled up on his chest.

"She asleep?"

"Like a baby." He pipes up. His wife squeezes his nose and comes around to sit beside him. She leans over and kisses Evie's downy hair and snuggles into his side.

"Videogames, Finn?" she smiles as she notices the game paused on the TV screen.

"Yep. The house is all clean and everything's put away, you two were sleeping and I was bored."

Rachel stares at the controller and then at the paused game. He chuckles and hands it over. "Have fun, you know you want to."

Rachel giggles and takes it from him. He kisses her hair and rubs his thumb over Evie's foot, chuckling lightly and squirming away from his wife's poking fingers when as soon as she unpauses the game she's killed.

* * *

**A/N: daddy!Finn feel FTW!**


	20. hudson three

**A/N: Future Finchel, baby and Grandma Carole :)**

* * *

_hudson three_

She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Finn?"

He turns around to see his mother poking her head into the room. She smiles and pushes the door open wider.

"Your brothers need your help in setting up outside."

"In a minute." He turns back around and rests his chin on his hands, resuming his staring. He's been in here since Rachel left, hiding away once he put the baby down for a nap, too entranced to leave. Watching her was quickly becoming his favourite pastime.

"She's not going anywhere you know." His mother says quietly, ruffling his hair.

"But she's growing up so fast Mom."

His mother chuckles softly behind him. "I could say the same for you. One minute you're my little baby boy sleeping just like this with your fist tucked under your cheek, the next minute you're standing in a hospital room with a little baby of your own."

He looks up at his mother and rolls his eyes. She loves to embarrass him with his baby stories, which not surprisingly, Rachel adds to Ava's baby books. They were _his_ stories, not his daughter's.

Truthfully though, he doesn't mind.

He looks back at the sleeping angel in the bed in front of him and touches a finger to her back.

He wanted her to stay like this forever, his small, beautiful and adorable baby, hear her bubbly laughter and get her wet baby kisses, dreading the days when she'd be walking around, dancing, riding her bike, running off to middle school, then high school, going off to college and then getting married.

He wanted to keep his precious baby just like this.

But Ava, being Ava and most importantly, Rachel's daughter, already at five months was as determined to do nothing half-way: she was already sitting up on her own and had a pair of lungs to rival only her mother's. Pretty soon she'd be walking and running and in high school.

No, she was growing up too fast.

"She'll always be your baby, Finn. Whether she's five months, five years, fifteen or fifty. Just like you're mine."

He stands up, towering over his mother as usual, feeling every bit the man she says she's always been proud of, married with a daughter of his own, but still her little boy.

His mother rests her palm on his cheek and nods, then she bends down to press a kiss to her granddaughter's forehead. "Come on, you know Rachel's already hard to surprise, let's get this party ready."

Reluctantly, he lets her pull him away, turning back quickly to put the pillows back around their sleeping baby, kissing her head before walking to the door. He turns back to peek at her.

His daughter, even asleep, was the most beautiful person ever.

And he doesn't feel guilty saying that, he may be biased, but as far as he's concerned the three most beautiful women in the world were all named Hudson.

* * *

**A/N2: More daddy!Finn feels. I can never get tired of this.**


	21. please don't stop the rain

**A/N: Yes, I threw things at my TV screen last night 9/27. **

_Where my mind took me after 4x03._

* * *

It's like he can see every single emotion flashing across his own face in Rachel's eyes. He says nothing, just staring at her while she stares right back him, her mouth set in a grim line.

He senses the other person in the room walk closer to them. After a second's hesitation the dick finally realizes him being here is the worst idea ever, and he eyes Finn warily as he steps pass. He's shorter than Finn - then again, who isn't? - and maybe it's the pure rage in Finn's eyes why he says nothing. He glances back at Rachel before walking towards the elevator.

Finn turns his head slowly to watch as the asshole presses the lift button, their eyes meeting for a brief second. The guy stares back, unblinking, holding his gaze. He wants to walk over and pummel his face into oblivion, leave him bloody and broken on the floor, and even then he wouldn't be hurting nowhere as much as how he's hurting inside.

Thankfully, the lift doors open and the guy hurries inside.

Soft sounds reach through the haze in his mind, and he realizes Rachel is talking, stumbling over her words as she wrings her hands in front of her. He turns his head back to her, his heart thudding painfully loud in his ears, blocking out her words, amplifying his heartbreak.

This can't be happening.

"Finn, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." She whispers, her palm touching her chest as she apologizes.

She's not wearing her ring. And his name is missing from her its usual place on her chain around her neck.

He wishes the ground would just swallow him. He can't do this. No. Not now. After…_everything_?

"Rach – please. Don't." He manages to croak out.

His fiancée – girlfriend, heck - he doesn't even _know _what to call her anymore – steps back in surprise at his voice, tears leaking from her eyes as she covers her mouth with a shaking hand.

He blinks away the tears burning his eyes, shaking his head, wanting nothing more than to erase the image of another man inside Rachel's apartment. Of Rachel's swollen lips, her blouse askew, hair messy – looking nothing like the girl he had last seen two months ago.

He supposes it's his fault though. Letting her go, on their wedding day. Sending her away, alone, to the city of her dreams.

A dream that he couldn't bear her to give up or put on hold because of his own setback. Rachel deserved – _deserves – _better. And he wanted to be that for her. And more.

He watches one tear make its way down her cheek, and another, until she crying softly in front of him, her shoulders shaking as she tries to wipe the tears away.

It gives him some small satisfaction, and he hates it, seeing her like this. She knows. He knows she knows, because he hasn't said anything but those three words but she must know how he feels about this.

She didn't just surrender. She let him go. How – why else?

He needs to leave, before he makes an even bigger fool of himself, standing there, while the girl he had promised to love forever broke his heart – again – the same way she did before. He swallows the bile in his throat because he had expected the tears, really. He had expected the heartbreak, her anger. He had been fully prepared to plead, bawl, cry, beg her to listen, to understand.

He just wanted a chance. One last chance.

But now.

He doesn't know what he wants anymore.

Before he leaves, he pulls the small bundle of envelopes from his backpack - 62 envelopes to be exact. One for every day he had spent away from her. One for every promise he planned on fulfilling when they were married. One for every day that he had missed her. One for every day closer to when he would see her again. One for every day he had loved her more.

He drops them at her feet, watching her eyes as they seem to widen in understanding. She sniffs and hiccups, a breathy _ohmyGod _slipping from her lips.

He turns while she's not looking at him, strides to the stairs, too impatient to wait for the lift. Leaving her standing there crying, leaving both their hearts shattered on her doorstep.

He doesn't know how they can come back from this. If they ever can.

He finally lets the tears fall down his face, when he's back outside on the road, where the sudden downpour can easily wash them away.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, it sucks. Not happy with Rachel Berry now.**


	22. equal parts bad and good

**_Anon prompt_**_ – Finn as a bad guy_

_AU Finchel_

* * *

_equal parts bad and good_

She stands near the doorway with Matt and Mike, gun at the ready, her eyes watching the sketchy movements of the men inside the pub. Santana shoulders her gun as she gazes lazily at the thick redhead glaring back at her from the floor, his nose bloody from meeting the butt of her gun. She winks at him and he scowls at her.

"Sure there's nothing you can tell me Rory?"

"C'mon Puckerman. You know I have nothing to say to the NYPD." The strong Irish accent of Seamus Flanagan responds airily.

"I didn't ask you, Seamus. Talking to your son."

The older Flanagan chuckles and swirls the whiskey in the tumbler in his hand before taking a sip, looking over his shoulder at the good-looking blue-eyed man smiling easily back at them.

Rory shrugs lightly, innocent eyes blinking as he tilts his head toward Puck.

"Not sure how I can help you Detective Puckerman. Don't see how I can possibly know anything."

Rory leans to look around Puck, winking at Rachel. She doesn't respond and he pouts then laughs lightly.

"I think if Det. Berry were to ask me nicely, I could remember something."

The Irishman grins his boy-next-door smile and winks at her again. Out of the corner of her eye she can see one of Seamus' nephews fidget nervously, clenching and unclenching his fists as he watches his cousin.

Santana turns to him, dropping her shotgun in her hands.

"Something you want to say, Lurch?"

The tall man shakes his head slowly at her, amber eyes flicking quickly toward Rachel before turning back to watch Seamus and Rory.

"You'll have to excuse my cousin, he doesn't like people barging into buildings waving guns and asking questions he can't answer. For that matter, neither do I. So if you don't have a search warrant, kindly get the fuck out of my father's pub." Rory says coolly, all trace of politeness evaporating from his clipped accent.

The members of the Irish mob standing around the room shift nervously from one foot to the other, all heads turned towards Seamus.

Rachel watches Rory's cousin, the set of his jaw, nostrils flaring as he glances at Santana's gun, towards Puck and then back to his cousin. She's pretty sure he could take them on all easily; he's by far the tallest and biggest man in the room. His eyes turn to meet hers and he stares coolly back at her before slowly turning his head back to his uncle.

"Something tells me you know something Rory. Especially about the clovers."

Rory stands up, tugging on his shirt collar before striding towards Puck, a strained smile on his face.

"That's racial stereotyping Det. Puckerman. Just because I'm Irish doesn't mean I go walking about with a fistful of clovers."

Puck snorts and gazes around the room.

"Keep being a smart ass Rory. I'll get my warrant, and I'll get you. It's just a matter of time."

Rory grins, his smile mean as he stands in front of Puck.

"Well, then, may the luck of the Irish be with you."

Puck glares at him then inclines his head, one by one the rest of the officers retreat from the dark Irish pub. She stays at the door until Puck catches up to her, muttering about smart-ass Irishmen and some other profanity she's loathe to repeat.

"I need you to do a full forensic exam of that last hard drive Berry, there's something there, I just know it." He says to her.

"Got it, Sir." She nods and follows behind him, turning back to catch a glimpse of the amber eyes of the tall man watching her.

…

She gets home in the early hours of the morning, before the sun even has time to get into the sky, it's still dark out, but the city is still very much loud and alive. When she pushes the door open, the little hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge and she pulls her sidearm in the same movement it takes to shut the door behind her.

She knows it's him before she even clicks the light on.

"You're late."

She resists the urge to roll her eyes at him and toes her boots off, then tosses her jacket onto the rack behind the door.

"Forgive me your highness, I'm working on a major case, tracking the movements of members of the Irish mob, maybe you've heard of it?"

From the armchair opposite her, Finn smiles, one side of his mouth pulling up to show a deep dimple. His eyes move to the gun in her hand as she steps further into her living room. He shrugs lightly and them slowly gets to his feet.

Rachel watches him intently, this silent, hulking giant of a man as he walks closer to her. Finn stops in front of her and trails a finger from her empty hand, up her arm to touch her cheek, his hand warm against her face as he gazes down at her. He looks at the gun in her hand and then back to her eyes.

"You don't need that."

She glances side eye at her weapon and back at him, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Rachel." He whispers, tugging her lip free.

She shakes her head, leaning away from his touch.

"You shouldn't be here, Finn. What if your cousin finds out you're here?"

His other palm comes up to cradle her cheek and he shakes his head. "I can deal with Rory."

"Can you? Finn, we found two more bodies this morning. _Two._ The department is chomping at the bits to get your cousin into custody. Every eyewitness we've had against your uncle and your cousin keep disappearing. We might not have the people to give testimony but your computer records don't lie."

"Rachel." He whispers again, then bends to press his lips gently to hers.

"I can handle myself. I'm more worried about you. Rory's taken some kind of perverted interest in you and I don't like it."

She looks down at her gun again and lifts it so Finn can see it. "Pretty sure I can take care of myself Finn. I'm a big girl."

Finn grins again, steps back so his eyes can wander down her body.

"Well.. -"

Rachel puts her hand over his mouth and narrows her eyes at him. "Say one thing about my height and I'll remind you of the day we first met. I won't need this gun and you will be back in the ER."

Finn chuckles and kisses her palm, pulling her hand away.

"Touché."

His smile disappears immediately as he rubs his thumb over her hand.

"I'll kill him if he touches you. I nearly snapped today."

Rachel raises an eyebrow and then steps from his embrace. She clicks her gun's safety on then replaces it inside the holster, stashing it over the rack beside her jacket.

She steps back to him and wraps her arms around his waist.

"Look. I get that you're so protective and all, it's kind of a turn on. But you need to keep your head down. When this gets hot – and it will – I want you with as little burns as possible. The less trouble you're involved in the less work the DA will have to cut a deal for you."

"I know, I do."

She smiles at the Irish lilt of his accent.

"And maybe you might want to not add breaking and entering to your rap sheet. Breaking into a cop's apartment isn't exactly a smart idea."

Finn rubs his thumb over her cheek and tilts his head towards hers.

"Well, I wanted to see you and I couldn't very well walk into the police station, now could I?"

"True."

"I missed you."

He rubs her arms wrapped around his waist, smiling at her.

"You saw me earlier today."

Finn grips her chin between his fingers and gazes into her eyes, shaking his head.

"I _really_ missed you, babe."

He kisses her hard, tongue slipping out to part her lips, hands roaming over her back, over her bottom and then he lifts her into his arms, holding onto her legs as he walks them towards her bathroom, dragging her shirt off quickly, pressing his face into her chest.

"Seeing you earlier at the pub, _god _Rachel. I wanted you right then and there." He groans against her skin.

He pushes her against the bathroom door, his head falling backwards as she pushes her fingers in his hair. This game she's playing is dangerous, and could mean trouble for both of them if anyone ever finds out about them: the cop and the mob boss' favourite nephew.

* * *

**A/N: I' catching up guys, I'm getting there. Yay/nay?**


	23. the things which are love

**A/N: Just some silly little fluff that came out that came about after watching the last episode of _Chicago Fire_, my new favourite series ;-)**

* * *

_the things which are love_**  
**

_Of course_ she had to listen to Tina. Santana she would have expected this ludicrous idea from, but nope, it was Tina suggested it. And she's doing it. Isn't she? She's sitting in her car around the corner from the firehouse trying to give herself a pep talk. She's already done the first part, now – she just needs to follow through.

Giving the costume bag on the backseat one last look – she's glad now Tina took the twins for the evening, else she'd never pull it off – she picks up the bag of pies and stuffs the envelope in her purse.

She could do this.

Now, if she could only escape her cousin. She's unlucky though, because as soon as she pulls into the driveway, she spots Noah and some of the other guys playing cards. She swallows her nerves and steps out of the car as daintily as she can.

Wonderful, really.

"Berry! Impatient much? Big Sexy still has," Noah winks at her and checks his watch, "thirty-five minutes left on his shift. Whatcha doin here?"

She rolls her eyes and sets her bag on the table, smiling in greeting around the table at the other men.

"You know if he hears you calling him that he'll hit you right? And why do you insist on calling me Berry when I've been married for ten years? To your best friend?"

Noah's grin simply gets wider as he drags the bag over towards him, unzipping it.

"Because it's the name I've been calling you since you were two and a sparkly ring on your finger won't make me stop calling you that."

She rolls her eyes at him, smacking the back of his head when he takes out the larger of the containers from the bag and inhales deeply.

"Ahhh. Smells like an extra hour jogging. With whipped cream?" He licks his lips and she has to lean over and literally tug the container from his fingers. She reaches in the bag and takes out a smaller container, handing it over to him.

"Without pecans. I'd love to kill you but it's still illegal and Santana might possibly hit me."

She flashes him a pretty smile and hands the larger container over to Nelson, one of the firefighters on Finn's squad and the one she knows for a fact is actually a qualified chef. "Pumpkin pie with pecan crust."

Noah lets out a slight squeak and looks at her with wide eyes. She chuckles as the group of men start laughing at the look of fright on Noah's face. She walks around to him and kisses his bald head, hugging him closer when he tries to pull away.

"Eww." He glares at her smirk.

"Shut up. Where's your boy?"

Noah pushes her away none too gently, wiping her kiss off his head and jerks his thumb back towards the office.

"Back there, he's in a meeting with the chief."

She stands up, pulling her skirt down and pulls an envelope from her purse. "Give this to him please? It's urgent."

Noah plucks it from her fingers and then shoos her away. "Please go so I can eat my pie in peace."

She smiles winningly at her cousin and then waves at the other men, hurrying away before the red blush tinting on her cheeks can give her away. She hopes to God Noah doesn't get inquisitive and open the damned envelope. Knowing him, he would have. She really hopes the red URGENT stamped across the front gives him pause.

Hopefully his appetite for her baking wins out against his curiousity.

Thirty-seven minutes pass since she drives away from the firehouse and before Finn gets home. Enough time to have a quick shower, do her hair and make-up and slip on the tiniest costume ever that Tina bought her for no good reason other than that she bought a similar one for herself.

Back in college, costume parties and the like always scared her, because Santana and Tina usually wore tiny strips of cloth, trying to convince her to do the same. But unlike them, she wasn't as blessed in the bosom department. But now with two kids later and another on the way, she was practically falling out of the bodice of the tiny top, suspenders and a barely there mini skirt, fishnet stockings and thigh-high boots, smoky make-up and fire engine red lipstick to complete the look.

She thinks she looks slightly ridiculous but if it's one thing she knows about Finn, he won't let her wear it too long. Small mercies.

As she fidgets with the straps of the suspenders for the millionth time, the slamming of his truck door and heavy boots pounding the driveway announces her husband's arrival.

Pulling her hat down onto her head and slinging the fake axe over her shoulder, she perches herself onto the little wall between the kitchen and living room, crossing her legs, fighting a smile when he throws the door open.

"Rach?! Baby?"

He flicks the light on and his eyes immediately zero in on her sitting on the nook. He has the envelope clutched in his fingers, dressed in navy pants and grey t-shirt, hair wind-blown and face red as he stands there, his mouth open in surprise.

"Wow."

"Hey Big Sexy." She giggles as Finn mock frowns, walking towards her.

"I should never have let you talk me into doing that stupid calendar. The guys won't shut up about it and Puck refuses to call me anything but."

He stops before her, rocking back on his heels as his eyes rove over her body, lingering too long at her breasts overflowing from the tiny white top.

He wipes his face with a large hand, waving the envelope in the other.

"So. You left this for me."

She nods slowly, tongue peeking out to wet her red lips.

"Am I to assume that this is what you _weren't_ wearing when you stopped by?" He pulls out the flimsy pair of panties she wore to the restaurant earlier that day and she nods, holding his gaze.

Finn shifts his weight to the other foot then narrows his eyes. "And are you wearing any now?" He asks huskily.

She pitches the axe aside and uncrosses her legs, tossing her hair over her shoulder and leans back further.

"Why don't you come find out?"

She laughs lightly at the hungry look on Finn's face as he steps closer to her, pushing her legs further apart as he stands between them, fingers hot on the spot behind her knee.

"Forty-eight hours away from you and I come home to this? What's the occasion?" he asks, his voice like honey dripping sin.

She shivers and pushes herself forward, pressing herself against his chest. She pulls him down to her, turning his face to the side so she can nip at his earlobe. "Do I really need a reason?"

* * *

**A/N2: Told you it was pure nonsense :)**


	24. breakfast menu

**A/N: For mochainthesun who gave me the idea, from Lea's interview on Leno.**

**Basically, Rachel ****_cannot_**** cook.**

* * *

_breakfast menu_

No.

This couldn't be happening.

She was still asleep and having a really bad nightmare. That had to be it. Right?

She squeezes her eyes shut tight and takes a deep breath. Opening them slowly, she can still see the remnants of the breakfast she was attempting to make for Finn. Breakfast. For lack of a better word. The eggs were runny, pieces of the shell sticking out, bacon burnt almost black. The toast was fine though. Burnt bread; that she couldn't destroy.

She falls to the floor, folding her legs beneath her, pressing her fingers to her mouth to try and stifle the sobs that threatened to break free. Why was it so hard though? Both her fathers were excellent cooks and she'd watched them enough times to know how to do stuff. Still, whatever she did didn't quite turn out the way she had remembered it did for her fathers.

She was a horrible cook.

Finn, he was blissfully still asleep even though it was already past 10am. He'd stopped by after his shift at the firehouse, barely able to keep his eyes open and after a few minutes of catching up and his continuous yawning literally fell into the bed beside her, out like a light in mere seconds.

The least she could do was make him breakfast. Instead she might just give him food poisoning.

She was a horrible girlfriend.

"Rach?"

She scampers to her feet, head poking up over the island in the kitchen, an apology on her lips. Instead her mouth goes dry at the sight before her. Finn, scratching his messy mop of hair as he yawns, bare-chested and barefoot, pajama bottoms slung low off his hips.

It should be a sin to look that good this early in the morning.

She almost forgets the disastrous attempt at breakfast sitting on the stove behind her, choosing instead to stare at the beautiful man leaning against the wall. A lop-sided smile lifts one side of his face as he peers down at her.

"Uh, babe? Why are you on the floor?"

She blushes, heat spreading over her cheeks as she drops her head. Seven months. They've been together for a good while now. And his voice when he just gets up is still the best part of her day. She fights the smile on her face before remembering _why _she was on the floor in the first place, then frowns, falling back to ground with a sob.

"Rachel?"

Finn comes around the island, bending down to tip her chin up with his finger. "What's the matter?"

She pushes his hand away, dropping her head so her hair falls to cover her face, the heat in her cheeks now burning with embarrassment. Most men deserve a woman who can cook, and all she's managed is runny eggs, burnt bacon, and burnt toast.

Some girlfriend she is.

"I tried making you breakfast," she whispers softly. She wipes away an errant tear, waving her hand behind her to the stove. "And I suck."

"Ah, babe. It can't be that bad," he chuckles.

"Yes it is! Of course _I_ didn't even taste it and it _looks_ bad enough. I'm the worst cook ever!"

She can feel his shoulders shake as he laughs quietly and it only makes her want to cry harder. He leans forward and presses his lips to her hair. Then cups her cheek with his hand, lifting her eyes to meet his.

"Hey, you know the only cooking I do is frozen foods from the fridge to the microwave and knowing the best take out in Brooklyn."

She snorts delicately, brushing her hair away from her face. "Still, Finn. I should be able to feed myself and you something besides leftovers, hotel breakfasts and cereal. I can't cook."

She watches him shake his head then stand up, snagging the plate from the counter, he looks down at her then grabs a fork from the drawer, sitting back down on the floor and folding his long legs under him. She drags her eyes from the firm planes of his stomach to his face, watching the confused wonder in them as he stares at jumbled mess on the plate masquerading as food.

He lifts his eyes to hers, winks and spears the runny eggs with the fork, swallowing nervously before taking a bite. She covers her face with her hands, peeking out between her fingers at him as he chews.

Finn makes a face, then swallows, coughing a little.

"Could've used a little less salt and pepper," he chokes out before raising the fork to his lips again.

She grabs his hand to stop him. "No! You don't _have_ to eat it!"

He laughs and lifts his hands from her grasp, lifting the fork to his mouth, smiling at her as he chews and swallows.

"Listen, when a Broadway superstar makes you breakfast on her first day off in five months, the least you can do is appreciate the gesture."

She bites her lip and wipes at the corner of his mouth. "Even if it's horrible?"

"Especially when it's horrible."

She laughs, smacking him on the shoulder. "Dork."

He puts the plate on the counter behind him and pulls her onto his lap, kissing her shoulder. "Thank you. For trying."

She nods, pressing her palm to his cheek and rubbing his scruffy jaw. She leans forward and presses her lips gently to his. She settles her legs on either sides of his and curves her arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the base of his neck. She kisses him again, harder this time, her tongue slipping out to trail over his bottom lip. Finn moans happily and wraps his arms around her waist, pressing her to his chest.

She doesn't eat eggs of course and the taste on his lips is slightly disconcerting. But any man who willingly eats what she just tried to cook deserves more than just a peck on the lips.

She giggles happily as Finn lowers her to the floor, pulling her robe apart. Time for a new breakfast menu.


	25. how close forever feels right now

**A/N: this one here came out of nowhere..**

**came home from cleaning and setting up my new apartment in pain and with a cold and a really bad headache and wanted to sleep but this wouldn't get out of my head.. it may be silly crap, but it's my silly cra**p **:p**

* * *

_how close forever feels right now_

She _had_ to go to him.

She didn't know why exactly. He was just there, she saw him and she just _had_ to go and talk to him.

Totally random. She wasn't even supposed to be at the coffee shop that night. But she was. Her fathers had surprised her by coming into the city, which they never do unless something is really wrong, or it's a special occasion (this one turned out to be one of her daddy's many imagined anniversaries – her first play, which, by the way she wasn't even actually _in, _she was the lead's understudy's understudy and wasn't even on stage, but hey, her daddy remembers and wants to celebrate it. She lets him because they'd worked a lot when she was younger, and now that her dad wants to retire, they've taken to spoiling her.

It's annoying, and she's already 25, but it keeps them from worrying.)

Anyway.

She bids them goodbye from the corner downstairs her apartment building. The November night is chilly and there's this quaint little coffeehouse a block over that sells the most delicious hot chocolate with fresh ground dark chocolate and soy milk with a hint of ginger that's become a favourite of hers, and that's when she sees him.

Seated on a black motorcycle with blue flames on the side, shiny blue helmet on the handle. He's laughing with three other men, a blond with shaggy blond hair, a lean Asian man with a long ponytail and another broad-shouldered man with a Mohawk.

She just sees him across the road and before she realizes it her feet are carrying her over, this strong impulse to talk to him getting stronger the closer she gets.

He's bigger up close, brown leather jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, haphazard helmet hair blowing in the slight wind, his jaw is scruffy, matching mustache and sideburns.

He's beautiful.

If she had to guess she'd think he was a drummer, or some bad boy type. It makes him even more intriguing.

His Mohawked friend sees her first, trailing off to stare at her as she comes up behind the blond. He glances around the group before looking back her. She spares him a slight glance before focusing her gaze on the object of her interest.

"You lost kitten?" Mohawk asks. The other two turn around and the man on the motorcycle tilts his head to the side as he watches her.

She shakes her head, and steps toward him, promptly dismissing the others.

"Hi."

"Hi." He gives a small laugh and nods at her.

"I'm Rachel." She shifts her chocolate to her left, holding out her mittened hand for him to shake.

He leans forward on the bike, her smaller hand swallowed by his bare hand. His grip is strong, hand cool in hers.

"Finn," he says, still smiling easily at her.

Now that she's here and she's spoken to him and knows his name she's not sure what else she's supposed to do. So she says the first thing that comes to her mind.

"Can we go for a ride?"

The other men around her start to snicker and from the corner of her eye she can see the Mohawk guy and the blond touch fists. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, focusing instead on the warm amber orbs Finn regards her with.

He must think her strange, coming up to him like this.

He shifts surreptitiously and his jacket shifts, a silver chain with a policeman's badge peeking out at her. He watches her notice it and then nods. "Depends, on exactly what this ride entails."

"I just want to talk." She smiles warmly.

"Talk?"

She nods.

"You don't know me."

"That's why two people who don't know each other talk. Plus you're a cop, something tells me I'll be safe with you and I'm quite sure you'll be safe with me."

He laughs louder at that, shaking his head.

She half expects him to tell her to get lost, but she can see the glint of something in his eyes, something beyond curiosity of why she just came over. She can feel the pull towards him still, her fingers itching to touch him. Contact. Skin to skin.

Honestly, she's clueless at to what's going on. And something tells her he is too.

He stares at her for a minute then nods, pulls another helmet from the case on the back of the bike to hand it to her. She takes it with a smile, handing her cup off to the side. Mohawk guy takes it and she throws out a hasty "thanks" in his direction.

She pulls her hair back, trying to fit the helmet over her head and Finn leans forward to help her. His fingers brush over her cheek and she pulls away, her eyes flying to his at the heat that spread from where he touched her. He stares back in surprise then tugs her close to him, curling his palm over her cheek. She nearly melts from his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as his warm breath washes over her.

"Who are you?" he whispers.

She lifts a shoulder, opening her eyes when he touches a finger to her lips.

"I'm Rachel. And you're Finn," she says to him, her hand covering his on her face.

"Do you feel that?"

He nods, his thumb stroking her skin. Her body throbs in response, every molecule firing in reaction to his touch. This close she can see his pupils dilate, feel his pulse quicken and she's almost sure that by him touching her he's having the same response.

His friends are still there, their bewildered stares burning into the back of her head.

In a flash he's pulling her onto the bike, seated in front of him. She's small enough that her head rests perfectly in the crook of his shoulder, his legs fit easily behind hers. He puts her palms on the handles, just beside his and presses his lips to her jaw before tugging the helmet onto her head.

She turns to watch him pull his own on before revving the engine and peeling off into the night.

She feels completely safe, and despite the strangeness of tonight she's almost certain that this exactly was where she supposed to be right now.


	26. right here, right now

**A/N: I really have no excuse for this.. just know I'll be posting the rest of my drabbles I have written down since September more often :) This is an all star drabble though - Finn, Rachel, Puck, Mike, Sam, mentions of Artie, Santana, Dave and Sue. Oh, army!Finn and army!Rachel for your reading pleasure :)**

* * *

_right here, right now_

They were under heavy fire, the enemy encroaching from all sides. Smoke was everywhere, the dull _tut-tut-tut-tut _of gunfire echoing all around and by all respects today was the worst day to get out of bed.

"Hudson!" His earpiece crackled to life, the gruff voice of his CO hissing at him. "Where the fuck are you?"

He was pinned down with four others of his platoon, just south of the position of the staff sergeant and the other soldier who was thrown from the Humvee when the rebel soldiers hit. He relayed this to his CO and was ordered to rejoin them some few minutes away.

Nodding at the others, they broke cover and ran for the cluster of trees that hid the others.

A grenade went off just behind Puck flinging him overhead and he landed sloppily a few metres away, dirty, bloody, unmoving. Finn cursed silently, blinking sweat and blood from his vision, peering through the scope on his rifle. He fired, two insurgents falling silently.

"Chang! Cover me!"

He glanced behind him, caught Chang's nod and sprinted over to his fallen friend. He dragged Puck's helmet off, pressing his fingers to his neck, breathing a sigh of relief when Puck coughed wetly and tried to smack his hand away.

"I'm fine. Fuck Hud, 's just a flesh wound," he wheezed. His hand rested limply on Finn's, blood slowly seeping through his vest. A quick onceover showed him Puck's left leg was bent unnaturally, an ugly wound in his right shoulder, fingers on his left hand barely grasping his rifle.

"You got a band-aid?" He muttered grimly, ripping a rag to shreds and using it to wrap over the wound in Puck's shoulder. His friend laughed again, spitting out blood as he tried to speak.

"Fuck you, Hudson."

"Nope, already told you I don't swing that way, but maybe I can put in a good word for you with my brother."

Puck didn't respond. Finn stared down at him, watching pain ripple across his best friend's face, despite his wisecracks, knowing that he was too badly hurt to survive much longer without help.

"No," he hissed. He grabbed Puck's vest and dragged him up to his level. "We've been through too much bullshit and enough of this crap for you to pussy out because of one stupid landmine."

Puck grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut as he wheezed. "Finn-,"

"We had a deal. You die, I die. I'd really like to not explain to your wife that I let you die here, so man the fuck up and get ready to move."

"Finn. How the fuck do you expect to get me out of this shit? We're too far behind enemy lines! It's another hour's run to the border and if you move me my ass I'll be in pieces." Puck glared at his best friend, breathing hard and shaking his head. "Santana will understand."

Finn's headset crackled again, and after rapid gunfire and hisses and snarls and shouts and screams, the line went dead. The staff sergeant was down.

"_Fuck._"

He glanced behind him at Evans and Chang still in the clearing behind them, Abrams, laying flat and unmoving. With two wounded, running out of ammo and practically surrounded by the enemy, they'd need a miracle to get through this.

He'd promised Santana – a fool's promise, yes – but he'd never let her down yet and he'd be damned if he let Puck's wife kick his ass for letting him die.

"Chang, I need you to break and find me some cover – we're gonna have to get Puckerman and Abrams out of this fight while we wait for a chopper."

"Lieutenant, I'm down to two clips, and I have eyes on at least thirty men coming in from ahead. Any movement we make will be a dead giveaway." Chang paused and sighed heavily. "Evans' given Abrams some morphine, what's left of it anyway. We can't move him Sir, he's paralyzed from the waist down."

Finn cursed again and wiped sweat more away from his forehead. He needed to think. He needed to get his men away from the open and somewhere where they could set up cover position, hold off the enemy for as long as they could. Puck coughed again, staring at him with hard hazel eyes as if he was thinking the same thing: there was no way out.

He spied an enemy soldier moving forward from the corner of his eyes, dropped and put two between his eyes. The soldier toppled over, gun falling with a smack.

Evans took out another and Chang took out two more, snarling in his mic that he was on his last clip. Evans tossed him Abrams' last clip and he met Finn's eyes across the clearing, his blue eyes wide and questioning.

He whirled around as someone moved behind Puck, the soldier falling quickly. Two more from the clearing fell just as fast and he dropped to his belly, covering Puck who wheezed for him to get off.

"I need eyes! Where's the shooter?" Finn snapped.

"Negative sir! Can't find him!" Evans shouted.

"Sniper!" Chang supplied.

"Sir! They're taking out the other guys!" Evans chuckled darkly.

"So where the fuck is he?" Finn growled as another enemy soldier toppled over.

He laid flat, eyes scanning the woods ahead and around them, frowning when soft laughter whispered through his earpiece. "Heard you boys needed a little help."

He turned around and looked at the other two who just simply shrugged. Another soldier went down.

"And exactly who should I be thanking?"

More soft laughter. "I'm pretty sure you're going to be doing more than just thanking me."

Beneath him Puck's eyes widened and he tapped Finn's cheek.

"Berry?!" Finn hissed.

He heard the sounds of a sniper rifle reloading, the click when it fired and more soft laughter. "One and the same."

"Oh fuck! Am I ever glad to hear you. I will never, ever, ever, ever tease you about singing ever again," Puck drawled, blinking rapidly.

"Yea, yea. Leave it to a woman to save the day," Berry chuckled over the line again.

"Not that I'm not damned glad that you're here, but _how_ are you here?"

"Adams. He called in your last known when your convoy got hit, figured you'd take cover in the trees. Major Sylvester sent out a detail just in case there were any survivors and I requested permission to tag along."

She fired off two more rounds as the enemies in the trees started shouting and firing wildly.

"Amateurs," Berry purred, taking out another soldier.

Finn glanced down at Puck and grinned. "You're gonna have to find another day to die."

Puck tried to snort.

"Berry, can you lay down cover while we come to you?"

"Sure – Karofsky and Smythe are about two klicks east of here with the rest of the convoy, I opted to scout ahead. Since I'm tiny and all."

He and Puck used to tease her all the time. Barely five feet and a hundred pounds dripping wet, Berry was the best sniper in their unit, on the whole base as a matter of fact. A master sleuth, she could get in and out of places easier than most others and was more stealthy that a cat. It didn't help too that she was fucking beautiful and rarely gave him the time of day.

He'd never tease her again.

"Berry, I owe you a beer," Chang muttered.

"I'll wash your hair for a month," Evans supplied.

He bit down the strange sting of jealousy as the other two joked with Berry. It was ridiculous that she wasn't interested in him. She shot him down every time he tried to talk to her but was always watching him.

She wasn't like any woman he'd known - stubborn and opinionated, always had to have the last word, always singing and she rebuffed him every single time. Oh she'd flirt and joke with the other guys. With him, never.

It was frustrating.

"If you two are done flirting, get over here," he growled glaring at them. Chang took Abrams' and Evans' rifles and shouldered them, hurrying over towards him and Puck. Together they laid down suppressing fire as Evans hoisted Abrams onto his back and ran over.

"We late for the party?" A new voice came over the line and he almost cheered when he recognized Karofsky's voice.

"Almost. Think you can help us get out?"

"My pleasure. Run two o'clock from your position on my mark. There's a lot of unhappy fellas without dance partners heading this way. I'd want to be long gone if I were you."

Finn chuckled despite himself and hovered over Puck. His face had gone gray, a cold sweat gathering over his forehead.

"This is gonna hurt like a bitch but it'll be worth it."

Puck tried to give him a thumbs up. "Beats Santana kickng our asses."

He laughed, lifting his best friend over his shoulder. Puck groaned, fresh blood seeping from the wound on his shoulder.

"Mark!" Karosfky called out.

He hurried away from the clearing, bringing up the rear behind Evans with Abrams slung over his shoulder and Chang in front. Gunfire zipped past his ears as they pounded the dirt. He glimpsed the tan skin of Berry under her helmet, chin unmoving as she rested it on her sniper rifle, Karosfsky to her left. He ran past them, in the direction where they had indicated, almost whooping for joy when he saw the handful of marines, guns at the ready taking up position around a truck.

Two other soldiers took Puck's unconscious body from his shoulders, his best friend alive but weak. Two others were helping Evans with Abrams into the Humvee while the others set up a defensive position.

"Everyone else accounted for?" he asked.

"Yes Lieutenant. We've- ah, recovered the bodies of the staff sergeant and two others. Berry and Karosfky should be back in a minute and we can head back to base."

He nodded and accepted the magazine clip a private handed to him. Chang and Abrams flanked him on either side, gazing out into the shrubbery where they'd left Karofsky and Berry.

They came crashing through the bushes, Karosky behind the petite woman.

"We gotta go. Incoming!" He called out and ran for the driver's door of the Humvee.

Berry pushed up her helmet off her face, surveying the men around her. He met her eyes and nodded, smiling at the wide smile lighting up her pretty face. Even in the middle of a shootout she looked ravishing and he had the strange urge to kiss her. More than kiss actually, despite their current situation.

She watched him, head tilted to the side in curiosity as he stepped closer to her, pushing his helmet onto his shoulders. Far in the distance he heard loud shouts and calls, obviously the enemy getting closer. He ignored it.

He tugged her helmet off, tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers, almost melting at the taste of strawberries on her lips. Berry moaned and stretched up on her toes, pushing her hands into his hair, deepening the kiss as her tongue peeked out to lick along his lips.

"Really? You two are doing that right now? Two minutes ago you were almost dead. There are men with guns that shoot bullets that kill heading towards us right now by the way," Chang muttered.

Pulling away reluctantly, Finn ran his fingers over her lips and grinned down at her.

"If only you'd done that sooner, all of that drama could have been avoided Hudson."

"Finn," he breathed, lifting one side of mouth in a lopsided smile.

Her eyes sparkled up at him, smile shy as she licked her lips. "Rachel."

"Great, great! Now that that's out of the way, can we go now?!" Karofsky shouted out.

As if in response, more gunfire erupted around them, sparking on the side of the Humvee. He dragged Rachel in beside him, snapping the door shut as they sped off, angry shots and rapid gunfire following them.

She curled into his side, her rifle slung over her shoulder, ignoring the glances of the others around them. He looked over at Evans, shaking his head at the silly smirk on the man's face and ignore Karosfky entirely.

Five minutes ago he was about to concede defeat and die with his men. Then an angel showed up with a sniper rifle and saved his life. Even though she had ignored and belittled him every day since he'd known her. Puck was alright, he'd live, he was sure of it. Artie had it worst – he'd been shot in the back.

But the were still alive, thanks to her.

Maybe, just maybe Puck wouldn't be the only one who had something worth going home to from now on. And just like she could read his mind, Rachel slipped her gloved hand into his, linking their hands.

* * *

**A/N2: I have this canon in my head of Rachel saying the lines "I requested permission to tag along" in this sultry voice and winking at Finn and yea.. this happened. Thoughts?**


	27. the one and nothing

**A/N: (repost from tumblr.. one of the drabbles that just about broke my heart, post 3x22.**

* * *

_the one and nothing_

Is this really it?

"Rach-,"

She steps back from his outstretched arms, his fingers grasping at her sweater. She really can't believe what she's hearing. What Finn is _saying_.

"_No_."

She steps further away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as she shakes her head. "I'm trying Finn. I'm _really_ trying to understand. You asked me to _marry_ you. I _said_ yes. We were planning our _wedding_ together."

Her face crumples as the painful reminder rips through her and she bats away tears.

"And on the day we were supposed to get married, you _broke_ up with me! Took me to the train station, put me on a train and sent me to New York by myself!" She stomps her feet and narrows her eyes at him.

"_Why?_"

Finn looks at her with sad eyes, then rubs his hands over his face, his shoulders drooping.

"Ba-,"

She steps forward and smacks him in the chest. "_Don't you dare_!"

He drops his hands to the side, shaking his head apologetically.

"Rac-,"

"No," She snarls and pokes him in the chest. "You do not get to show up here after three months to try and make me forgive you."

He steps back when she pokes him again. "You do not get to show up here and tell me you're being _deployed _to the_ Middle East_ and expect me to be OK with that!"

He stands there, allowing her small hands to smack at his chest, until she slumps into his arms, spent from her tears and fighting.

"Rachel, please."

She pushes herself away from him, regarding him with swollen eyes, just shakes her head and walks away. Back towards her dorm, alone, to cry herself to sleep. And Finn, ever the chivalrous gentleman, follows her back, at a distance. It's only 7pm, and its not too dark out. But every time she looks behind her, he's shuffling along, hands jammed into his pockets, looking like someone kicked his puppy.

She takes some small comfort in that.

She gets to her dorm room and slips inside, clicking the door closed, but not locked and curls up onto her bed, facing it while hot tears slip down her face. She can't understand how her day got from good to devastating inside a few hours, and there was nothing she could to change it.

Finn was in the army.

And he was leaving, to go fight someone's war, halfway around the world.

She falls asleep with tears on her face, her ring still on her finger.

She wakes up in the early hours of the morning, her body stiff and cramped. Her roommate isn't back as yet, maybe she's holed up in some guy's room, she's as bad as Santana was, before Brittany at least.

She doesn't want to move, wants to stay here and wallow in her misery but she needs to to the bathroom. After giving herself a little pep talk, she throws her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet reluctantly moving to the door. Pulling it open, she's surprised to see the large shape of her fiancé - ex-fiancé, - leaning against the wall.

His head flies up when he sees her, and even in the dim light of the hallway she can see his red-rimmed eyes and he hurriedly wipes the wetness from his nose as he shoots up to stand.

She steps back into her room, her fingers almost turning white as she grips the door.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I only wanted what was best for you." He pleads, his hands fidgeting with his shirt at his side.

_How_ is this best for her?

She's tired, her need to go to the bathroom forgotten in the rawness of her feelings, renewed by just a glimpse of him.

She doesn't want him to go. He's supposed to stay here, with her.

And he can't.

But she wants him, loves him still, despite everything.

She steps from behind her door, holding her hand out to him. He looks at it, and then at her, striding forward quickly to wrap his palm around hers, threading their fingers together.

He pulls her close to him, and pushes his mouth onto hers, startling her, swallowing her gasp, but she responds just as eagerly, slamming her door closed, tugging his shirt from his new, muscled, broad shoulders.

His large hands cup her cheeks tenderly, brushing away fresh tears still on her face.

"I'm sorry. I so sorry."

She nods, pushing herself up onto her toes to press her lips to his.

If all she had left of Finn, her Finn, was right here and now, she'd take it. Take what he could give. Because she'd given all of herself there was to give to him, and maybe one day, just like he said the day he let her go, if they were meant to be together, after they'd gone their separate ways, they'd find their way back to each other.

* * *

**A/N: I think I'd have preferred of they'd let Finn excel in the army.. :(**


	28. reacquaintance

**A/N: (repost from tumblr) last panel from this gifset here: bit dot ly/10Eu96y**

* * *

_reacquaintance_

"We didn't.. I swear, we just… See, I was making breakfast and Rachel came in and –"

He's babbling.

He turns and looks at Rachel and she has this little smile and.

Yea.

"I'm going to shut up, now."

OK. He just wants the ground – or this sofa – to swallow him whole. But not really, cuz like, Rachel is still smiling. And Santana is grinning, and as much as Kurt wants to _act_ disgusted – that damned smile on his face really isn't helping.

He's glad they're enjoying his embarrassment.

There's a touch on his arm and when he looks over at Rachel, her cheeks are pink and her eyes are sparkling.

Honestly, they really weren't doing _anything_. Well.

See, yesterday Rachel had come in from an early dance class and he had spent most of the morning going over want ads in the paper and she'd come over to help him and she'd smelled like Rachel and sweat and all flowery and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she was leaning over his shoulder and listen - can you blame him for kissing her then and there?! Next thing he knew she was underneath him (on this very sofa) and when he'd finally fought the urge to pull back (because if he didn't they would be naked in seconds) her lips were all swollen and pink and God –

It's like since he's been in New York, barely a week, all he's wanted to do was kiss her. And he wasn't sure if he was allowed to. They haven't really spoken much about anything. And he wants to talk, really he does. Especially since Donkey was out of the picture, and has been for a couple of months, thank God.

He wants _them_ back. But he's not going to push. He loves her and something tells him she still loves him. But this, _them_, it's going to take time. And he has lots of it.

"Wanna go for a walk?" She asks quietly.

Santana and Kurt are back in the kitchen talking animatedly about food and he kind of wants to kiss her again. She stands, holding out her hand to him and when he takes it, she wraps three fingers around his thumb. Just like always. She tugs him to his feet, and he kind of stumbles forward, his body pressing up against hers, hand on her hip. She kisses his chest quickly and turns, pulling him with her towards the doorway.

He hears a snicker behind him and he doesn't look to see who, just flips them both off, taking the jacket Rachel offers him. She lets his hand go briefly to slip into hers and there's an exaggerated sigh and someone ahhhs and this time it's Rachel who flips them off before tugging the door open and pulling him behind her, palm once more firmly wrapped around his.

* * *

**A/N: Because Finchel will forever be always..**


	29. better than imagination

**A/N: (repost from tumblr) gif here: bit dot .ly/10rshzl**

_AU Finchel where Rachel walks in on her roommate's best friend in the nude_

* * *

_better than imagination_

She was in no mood to be nice when she got home. She'd just had the worst day ever and was looking forward to a hot bath, some white wine and whatever was on TV tonight. Her dance professor at NYADA was the worst teacher she's ever met and she felt some vindication in hating Cassandra July with every fibre of her being.

She hears humming as she heads to the kitchen and sighs heavily.

Tonight calls for comfort food and she's really going to break Santana's neck if there isn't any left. Santana doesn't even _like_ vegan ice cream, she'll eat it just because she's too lazy to go out and buy her own ice cream.

And she really doesn't want to talk to anyone.

Before she even goes to her room, she goes to the bathroom first. Once she's showered and Santana sees her in her robe, she won't question her, and will leave her be.

She should have followed her mind and went straight to her dad's place after work. But no, she still has classes in the morning, and even though she'd like to skip and bury herself under the covers until Cassandra dropped dead, Rachel Berry does not quit and therefore will be at classes, perfecting her craft until Cassandra fully understands the magnitude of her talent. Once and for all.

She clutches her robe tight as she emerges from the bathroom and walks briskly to her bedroom.

Then stops, walking back to Santana's room, frowning as she sticks her head in.

There was a naked man standing in Santana's bedroom painting.

A naked. Man. In _Santana's_ bedroom.

This was unheard of.

The only man to ever get into Santana's bedroom was her father, brother and Rachel's cousin when he helped them move in.

So, _this_, is strange.

She rubs her eyes, convinced she's seeing things.

Nope. Still there.

And he's completely oblivious to her standing there, gawking at his nakedness. And to her credit, she _can't_ look away.

She's not even sure she wants to.

He's sort of beautiful to look at.

And from what she can see of the painting – a self-portrait – that's lovely too.

He's tall with really long legs, paint smears staining his pale skin. His ass is pretty cute too (is that even a word she's allowed to use to describe a man's behind? She's not sure but for lack of a better word, the stranger's ass is rather magnificent, as most derrieres go. Outside of her cousin's porn collection, she's never actually seen a man naked, so kindly fuck off.)

His back is strong, shoulders broad, and she's kind of mesmerized by his movements, the muscles in his back bunching and rippling under the skin as his hands make steady and curved marks on the canvas in front of him. There's a tattoo on his right bicep, she can't make out what it is really, but her fingers itch to trace the design.

His hair is messy, flopping over his forehead every time he bobs his head to the music from the headphones in his ears and he's humming along to the song, muttering obscure words as his fingers move deftly over the canvas.

The longer she stands there, the more she enjoys the view and silently wills him to turn around. She's not thinking of doing anything (of course not!) but she's been treated so far in the show all she wants is a better look. (Why not?)

He looks up into the mirror in front of him and seems to finally realize she's standing there. He turns his head, a curious look on his face as he watches her.

She's been standing there so long staring at him that she doesn't have the time to hurry away or look away once he catches her staring.

He offers a small smile, a dimple peeking out as one side of his mouth lifts up and his fingers reach up to tug the headphones from his ears.

"Hi."

Her eyes flashes to his and she nods, tilting her head to the side in question, ignoring the heat on her cheeks from getting caught staring at him.

"I'm Finn, Santana's friend from back home? She's in LA for the shoot, said I was welcome to stay here for the week til my apartment's finally ready?"

She vaguely remembers Santana mentioning a childhood friend moving to the city and maybe needing to crash here while their apartment finished painting. She doesn't remember Santana saying anything about that friend being a man and being quite so sexy.

She's still staring at him and Finn's smile gets wider. He tugs off the headphones completely and rests his paint palette on top of the stereo beside him before turning around entirely. Her eyes zero in on the heaviness between his legs and her tongue slowly peeks out to wet her lips.

"You must be Rachel, right?"

Her mouth gets dry, nipples pebbling underneath her robe and an intense warmth seems to throb from between her legs. Unconsciously, she grips the front of her robe, conscious of the thought in the far recesses of her mind that tells her to drop it and match him nakedness to nakedness.

The front is even more good-looking than the back.

* * *

**A/N: Who else wants to see Finn (Cory!) naked?!**


	30. minds of their own

**A/N: (repost from tumblr) ****_photo from here - _****finchelphotoprompts bit dot ly/ZfjJI0**

_AU Finchel where their daughters shake it up some_

* * *

_minds of their own_

"Finn!"

He turns his head to the shrill sound of his wife's shouting his name and sees her hurrying through the crowd of people then turns back to Melody and Seraphine with a smirk on his face. The twins look up at him with identical smiles, both looking like the epitome of innocence.

They aren't identical by any stretch of the word (aside from their skin tone which _thank God_they inherited from their mother) and he's pretty sure _he's _the one about to get in trouble for_their _shenanigans.

Wouldn't be the first time.

Rachel sidles up to him with a frown, quickly throwing out, "You're late."

She pushes herself up to kiss him on his cheek, patting the scruff on his jaw with something in her eyes. His smirk gets wider. Until she turns to the twins. He steps down on the steps to give her more room to greet the girls.

She kisses both her daughters, smoothes Mel's mass of thick curls and tucking a strand of Sera's sleek pixie-cut hair behind her ear.

"You girls look lovely! Piper's asking for you. Come on, if we hurry, we can-,"

Her eyes sweep over their feet and she freezes, snapping her eyes to him.

"Finn. Why aren't they wearing the shoes their grandmother bought for them to wear with their dresses?"

"You're asking me? They dressed themselves Rach."

"Yes. But you let them leave the house dressed like this. It's Piper's debut performance. I have journalists coming to see her and her classmates. Mel and Sera…"

She trails off and turns back to the twins. They're almost as tall as she is at ten years old, but they still step back from the stern look their mother gives them.

He puts his hand at the small of her back and Rachel turns her glare on him, he grins easily at her, flashing the smile he knows she can't resist.

"Rach. The critics are here to see Piper's school concert, not what her sisters' are wearing. Relax. The twins are fine as is, does it matter if they're wearing heels or sneakers? I sort of remember someone kicking off her high heels the seconds her dad's dropped her off at graduation and demanding Kurt relinquish her Chuck Taylors."

Rachel's cheeks get pink as she shakes her head at him and rolls her eyes.

"Really Mom?" Sera giggles.

"At graduation?" Mel chimes in.

"Chuck Taylors?" They both utter. They look down at their own sneaker-clad feet and back to their mother's proper black pumps.

Rachel sighs and moulds herself into his arms.

"Fine. At least you're not taller than me tonight. It's bad enough Piper's already patting me on the head when she leaves the house in the morning."

She turns twinkling eyes to her daughters then pushes him away.

"Come on! We're going to be late."

Rachel grabs both their hands and tugs them along, dropping back behind them. With a shake of his head he follows dutifully behind his girls. His daughters push themselves through the crowd, dancing lithely in front of them down the aisle. The crowd seems to part automatically, and Rachel pastes on her winning Broadway smile as she passes by people who start screaming her name.

His wife's like a local celebrity, she can't go anywhere without being recognized or being asked for her autograph. Tonight though, she gracefully declines and tells them to enjoy the benefit concert. As they take their seat in the auditorium, the twins sitting between them, he sees Rachel slip her heels from her feet, a small sigh of relief escaping as she relaxes into her seat.

Beside him, Sera pokes her sister in the side, and both of them giggle as Rachel pokes her tongue out at them.

* * *

**A/N: I'm trying to imagine the Rachel Berry we've come to love as a mom ;)**


	31. i see you

**A/N: (repost from tumblr) pic here:bit dot ly/ZoYpHb**

_AU in which Rachel spots Finn on a corner in NY_

* * *

_i see you_

She just had to get out of her dorm room, her roommate was driving her bananas.

Three months. That's how long she was at NYADA for. Taking one day at a time.

It's all she could do, really, just put one foot in front of the other, keep her head up, ignore the jabs and insults thrown her way. It was like high school all over again, but worse, since this was college - the time when you had to learn how to survive in the big, bad world. On your own.

And she was alone, wasn't she? Kurt was still in Lima, Santana had taken up that scholarship in Oregon, Mike was in Chicago, Mercedes was wowing the crowd at numerous concerts in LA, at least she had Puck, however rare they saw each other. Quinn was at Yale - bi-monthly bus trips between NY and CT helped somewhat, but it wasn't the same.

And Finn.

Finn was just, gone.

Thinking about him hurts. So she pushes her memories of him deep down. But it's hard to forget him when she sings. She lives for singing. Just like she lives for loving him.

She tries not to think about him when she's _not_ singing instead.

She'd taken to strolling down random streets between classes and rehearsals, taking pictures with her phone, finding hidden-in-the-corner comfy bookstores, mom-and-pop cafes, and this one music store where the owner always had tea and scones whenever she stopped by. The woman was a faithful Barbra Streisand fan too, and had seen all her plays. They could discuss music, school, Broadway.

It helped. Until she walked out the doors and back to the crazy life she had always wanted. Just not. Not like this.

It was one of these rare evenings, after a gruelling rehearsal where Prof. Tibideaux had merely nodded her head at her performance before dismissing the class for the day, she had hurried out the door as fast as she possibly could, heading straight for the music store, eleven blocks away.

She needed the distraction, and Jessa could help.

Her phone beeped in her hand, pulling her from her thoughts. It was Kurt, and he was planning on coming up the next weekend. He had missed the cutoff deadline for FIT that fall, but come January, he'd be in NY, just like her, following his dreams, even if they'd changed.

Maybe they could get an apartment together. Their own little shoebox apartment - tastefully decorated of course - close enough to both universities.

She wouldn't be alone.

If she had to choose who to be with her in NY, she'd always choose - well, she'd choose those familiar pair of brown eyes, freckled nose and dimpled cheeks. But she can't. And she's not settling. Because she loves Kurt, not in the same way. But Kurt, Kurt understands.

And she'll still have her best friend.

She stands in the corner, lets that thought settle in her mind, comforting her. She just had to fight a little bit longer. Get through the semester and her hateful classmates. And then she'll be able to breathe a little bit easier.

She looks around her, at the bustling city she's always loved, watching the people hurrying past. It's loud, crazy, dirty, packed with people and its just where she always wanted to be.

A messy head of hair from across the street catches her eye, and she does a double-take, peering over the mass of bodies passing by.

She's stared at that face almost every day for the better part of three years. She's kissed those lips, counted those freckles and ran her fingers through that hair, her fingers flex subconsciously, tugging at that cowlick at the back of his hair that refuses to comply with the rest of it.

Finn.

He's standing on a street corner in New York, smiling at her with his shy smile, hands tucked into his pants pocket, shuffling from side to side.

She stares at him, even with the people still hurrying by her, off to live their lives, off to whatever new adventure they're about to embark on.

They were supposed to be doing that together, her and Finn.

Starting their lives together. Finding new adventures.

Together.

He stares at her while she looks at him.

Finally, he pulls his phone from his pocket, fingers quickly dialling. Her phone starts ringing in her hands, and of course she doesn't need to look down because _Faithfully _is blaring from its speakers.

He stares at her, his smile fading, the phone still at his ear.

She stares back.

* * *

**A/N: another storyline which I'd have preferred to see :(**


	32. loser buys dinner

**A/N: So I was kidnapped last night, and taken to the basketball court, where I watched my boys slaughter another team, one of the illest basketball games I've seen in awhile! **

**I played basketball in high shcool and my freshman and senior year in college - wasn't as good as Diggins or Griner but I could hold my own, forgot how much I loved the game ;-) And this came to me..**

* * *

_loser buys dinner_

_…_

He loses the game. Twice.

He's distracted, see. And he can't help it.

The two of them, these two girls who look like cheerleaders (he's almost sure they _are_ cheerleaders) are sitting on the bleachers chatting while they watch their game. The brunette is tossing a basketball in her hands, head cocked to the side as she listens to the Latina giggling in her ear, pointing towards them on the court.

He's so distracted that he misses the pass Mike throws at him (again) and Ryder steals it, going in for an easy lay-up. He pulls his eyes from the girls, groaning as he stoops down, ignoring Puck & Dave celebrating with Ryder on their third win.

Mike and Matt glare at him and he shrugs, laughingly dodging the basketball Mike flings at him.

"Dude! That's the third game we've lost in half-an-hour! Where's your head at?!"

He looks over to the bleachers again and the girls are laughing and he's pretty sure they're laughing at him.

Puck follows his gaze and then chuckles. "Dude, you're letting a couple of cute coeds distract you? Easy fifty bucks I ever won."

He whips his head around. "Fifty? It was a bet for 20! Best of 3!"

"Yea, well, we bet these other two 30 we'd beat you in three games."

He doesn't even need to look at his friends to know the others are still glaring daggers at the back of his head. He's never going to live this down, and he's almost positive when they get back to the dorms, the rest of his frat brothers are going to give him hell for it.

"Man, whatever. Can we just go while I still have the rest of my pride intact?"

"Sure you don't want to win back some of this money?" Puck waves the dollar bills towards him and he flips off his best friend as he heads toward the bleachers where his towel and water bottle are. The other guys follow him, jeering and teasing.

He sits down near the two girls, smiling when he catches the brunette's eyes.

Up close she's even more gorgeous.

"Good game."

He looks up at her and she's smiling, teeth pearly white and pretty. He shrugs and gulps water from his bottle (he's thirsty, OK.)

"Too bad you lost," the darker-skinned girl tosses down at him and he chuckles, nods.

"Off day I guess?"

"Is that what you're calling it?" The Latina nudges the pretty brunette, whose cheeks colour prettily as she stares straight ahead, still tossing the basketball in her hands.

"You guys need to up your game."

He looks over his shoulder and meets the sparkling brown eyes of the brunette, still twirling the ball in her hands.

"Oh really?"

She nods. "You literally gave that game away. And your friend there could control his jump shot better. It's all in the wrist, and no offense, he looks like he's an extra in the cabaret."

He snorts and turns to back to the guys where Mike is arguing with the other guys – over his jumpshot.

"You don't say?"

"I do."

"We could teach you a thing or two. Especially Mohawk there. He's 0-7 at the three-point line. Did he actually _try _to shoot or was he just dodging balls off the backboard?" the Latina stretches her legs out as she gestures towards his groups of friends.

He chuckles again, because yes – Puck is the worst at shooting threes, and doesn't seem to get that he actually does suck.

"Work in progress?" He offers.

"More like disaster in motion," the brunette pipes up.

"You talk like you can do better."

The two girls laugh. "Hell yes!" They say together.

The brunette twirls the ball on a fingertip. "We could _show_ you a thing or two."

He's intrigued. And turned on somewhat by their ballsy approach. And maybe by the smile the brunette is giving him.

He looks back at the guys who are staring at them talking, sees the questioning looks in Puck's and Mike's eyes.

"Is that right?"

The two girls exchange looks and then the Latina nods, the brunette turning back to him, a smirk on her lips.

"Alright. We'll play you. Three on three. Loser buys dinner."

He can't help it. He laughs – well, snorts water from his nose is more like it. He wipes his face with the towel and turns fully to face the two girls.

"You two. Want to play 3 on 3. Against us?"

He points at them and jabs his thumb over his shoulder at his friends who'd moved closer to hear the conversation.

The taller girl rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. Which pushes up her breasts nicely in her sports bra. Not that he noticed or anything. The brunette snickers and holds the basketball out to him.

Her hands are tiny, like impossibly small, her fingers painted in a pretty, glossy pink. Just like her lip gloss. And she is. Tiny. Gorgeous, but small.

"Unless you're scared." She winks.

Puck, the charming idiot comes over, throwing his arm around Finn's shoulder.

"You little ladies want to go mano a mano against us?" He grins, wagging his eyebrows at them.

The Latina murmurs something in Spanish to the other girl, who laughs out loud, throwing her head back in mirth. There's a thin gold chain at her neck, with a glittering gold star pendant. Everything about her is dainty, and pretty… and her laughter sounds like music.

"Unless the big, strong men can't take on two tiny girls in a game of basketball?" She smiles back.

He knows what Puck is gonna say before he says it and he facepalms himself when the not-so-wise one speaks, running his fingers through his Mohawk.

"Oh believe me, there are a whole lotta things I could take you on. Repeatedly. Twice if you like it. And three times if I do."

The Latina grins salaciously at Puck and her friend shakes her head and winks at him then tosses the ball at Puck.

"First to ten. And remember, loser buys dinner."

She gets up, steps pass him, running her fingers across his back and winks.

He got so easily distracted when they were sitting, how's he supposed to pay attention when they're actually on the court?

"Hold up! What's your name?" He grabs her hand before she steps off and she twists, slipping out of his grasp, taking the basketball from him. She leans close, her lips brushing his cheek.

"Rachel. Remember it. You'll be moaning it later."

He pushes Mike away of him in his scramble to get off the bench, following behind the two girls. They're both dressed in basketball shorts, Rachel is wearing a pink cut-off t-shirt showing off tanned arms and Puck is practically salivating at the other girl's bare tummy.

"I'm Santana by the way," she offers, bending down to stretch.

From the corner of his eye he can see the other four guys bend their necks as they follow Santana's movement.

He watches Rachel though, and the shy smile still on her lips as she watches him watch her.

(He thinks maybe the fact that he's not paying Santana much attention is working in his favour. This is good.)

"Alright. How do we do this?" he manages to get out.

"Three on three," Santana replies.

Five pair of hands shoot up behind him.

"We choose our third," Rachel says, tapping her cheek as she grins at the guys behind him.

She points at Mike. "What's your name?"

Mike points to himself. "Mike."

Santana looks him up and down, then looks back to Rachel.

Shrugging, she stretches up onto her toes and he averts his eyes quickly back to Rachel.

"He'll do."

"Puck. Dave."

Of all the guys, they're the biggest. He figures it'll be easy enough to block Rachel, she barely reaches his chest. And Dave can guard Santana. Puck and Mike can figure it out.

"I bet you fifty bucks we have these girls begging for our autographs after the game," Puck murmurs to him. He looks at Rachel and at Santana and something tells him Puck might just be wrong.

"You're on."

Rachel tosses the ball back and forth in her hands. "Who shoots first?"

"Ladies before gentlemen, of course," Puck offers and winks at him.

"Fine."

He barely checks the ball to Rachel before she tosses it to Santana who catches it and shoots a 3-pointer. Nothing but net.

The guys on the bleachers whistle loudly and Santana bows and grins. "Two – nothing."

He manages to intercept a pass and throws it to Dave who runs a lay-up. And misses. Santana catches the rebound and passes to Mike who passes to Rachel who actually dribbles pass Puck and passes to Santana who gets and easy lay-up.

"Three-nothing." She grins as she jog backwards to the line.

He manages to break the score when its at 4-0, ignoring the loud cheers of his friends who are cheering for Santana & Rachel, blocking Mike's lay-up and tipping the rebound to Puck who sinks the jump-shot, and dunks over Rachel and then sinks a three to tie the game at 5-5.

"Not bad. I guess you were distracted earlier."

He's actually amazed at her small hands as she dribbles the ball.

"Yea, well, can you blame me?"

"Not then. But right now, yup." Rachel grins, fakes left and he slides as he moves to block her, looking back to see her flawlessly sink a three-pointer.

"C'mon Big Boy. You're not giving up so soon, are you?" She jogs back over, offering him a hand.

He really can't afford to lose to two girls. No matter how sexy they are.

Santana misses her jumper and Puck tosses the rebound to Dave. They pass the ball back and forth for a bit before Dave sideswipes Puck and he sets up the alley-oop, pushing the game to 6-7.

"Playing nasty I see?" Rachel checks the ball to him, hands spread in defense.

"All's fair in love and basketball, right?"

"Who said anything about love?" He chuckles, driving pass her for a lay-up. Santana taps the ball from his grasp and Mike picks it up, scoring easily.

Eight-six.

Rachel winks at him and he brushes his wet hair away from his forehead, guarding her when Dave checks.

"You know we're going to beat you right?"

"Maybe."

"Oh, no maybes darling. You're going down."

"Is this how you get guys to go out with you?" He moves to take the ball from her and she dribbles between her legs and away from his reach.

She was _good_.

"No. But it's fun."

"Fun?"

"Yeah. Most guys find it hard to believe that lil ol me was two-time All-American and the player with the most assists and steals my senior year in high school. I'm even here on a basketball scholarship, majoring in dance."

That said, she drives right but he follows her move and she twists, spinning around to pass to the Latina.

Santana catches the pass with nimble fingers, fakes and sideswipes Dave, stepping behind the three point line and sinking the shot easily. She slaps palms with Rachel then both of them hold up a hand each.

"That's ten," Rachel winks at him.

"I think I'm in love," Pucks sighs dreamily, mouth ajar as he stares at Santana.

Finn laughs and punches Puck lightly on the shoulder. "Pay up bitch, looks like I've got a date tonight."

* * *

**A/N2: Brittney Griner and Skylar Diggins are two of the top players in the WNBA yo.. them girls got skills. Of course I stole a lil of my fave movie (Love & Basketball) and well, Rachel beating Finn in basketball is just too sexy! Whatcha think?**


	33. seems it's my destiny

**A/N: Its Finn and Rachel as sorta April & Jackson from the season finale of Grey's Anatomy. Basically. For Ana (because I'm going to feed her obsession from now on :p)**

**Disclaimer: Glee, ain't mines y'all.**

* * *

_seems it's my destiny (for love to cause me misery)_

The storm outside is ridiculous. Trees bending, their branches almost touching the ground.

In the playpen next to her, Puck's daughter mewls in her sleep as thunder rumbles outside, lighting splitting the dark like daylight. She walks over, patting her back as she hums a lullaby to hush the baby back to sleep. Alizah jabs her thumb in her mouth and turns on her side, drool on the pillow as she succumbs to sleep.

Lightning makes the sky outside shine again but this time, the baby doesn't budge.

She hates times like these. Nights when her brother and her best friend were on duty and the crazy people came out in droves. There's something nagging at her – it's making her nervous and uncomfortable and she tries to not watch the clock as the seconds tick by.

It's Sunday, one of the days when the four of them would sit around and play scrabble, try and keep Alizah from driving her father crazy and do the dance Santana and Puck do when they pretend that they're not interested in each other. And when she has to remind herself that Finn is just her friend. Her best friend and nothing else.

But this Sunday, she's going over her reports because she goes on vacation on Tuesday and she's almost positive the guys in her department wouldn't be able to function without her for five days.

There's another crack of thunder and Alizah jerks in her playpen but doesn't budge otherwise. Her cell rings a second later and she snaps it open without looking at the screen.

"Rachel?"

Goosebumps crawl over his skin when she hears Santana's voice on the line.

In ten years of friendship, Santana has never called her by her first name.

By the time the woman is done speaking, she's bundled her niece in layers of clothing and hiking boots, tucking the mass of the little girl's hair under a beanie. Miraculously, she's still asleep.

The weather outside is atrocious, but she can't stay. She can't. Not when –

She can't stay.

Puck's truck is parked in the garage. She ignores Santana's plea to wait until the cops can come by and pick her up – she and Puck worked on that truck since they were ten, she knows every inch of that vehicle, and in rain, sleet or snow and she's a competent driver. Waiting, is not an option.

"Goddamnit Berry! Why the fuck didn't you wait?!"

Santana is standing outside the emergency doors when she pulls up. She throws in the truck in park and grabs her niece, shielding her from the rain as she hurries inside.

"Where is he?" She demands.

Santana takes Alizah from her, hushing her back to sleep. "He's in OR 3. The nurse is cleaning him up."

She rushes off, stops and turns. "Can you – take her? To daycare? Or my office, I have a cot in there." She barely acknowledges Santana's reply before she dashes off again.

Her brother is lying on the bed, hand over his forehead as a nurse cleans the nasty cut on his arm. It's already swollen and by the look of things, he was probably going to be in a brace for a while.

"You're lucky I don't kill you myself. What, you're a superhero now?"

Puck looks up, sees her and grins. "It's one idiot Rachel. Drunken fools need to show some respect."

The nurse finishes patching Puck's arm, grins and shakes her head as she walks out.

"Noah."

Puck snorts and lifts his head, leaning on one elbow.

"Rachel. I'm fine, I promise."

"You got knocked in the head! Santana said you were _bleeding _and _unconscious _when Finn brought you in!"

She blushes at the smirk he gives her at the mention of Finn's name and she punches him on the arm – his bad arm – smiling when he winces.

"That's for making me worry! You made me drag your daughter out in a storm. A day before I go in vacation. You owe me big time."

She's still berating her brother when a loud explosion rocks the building. Puck looks at her with wide eyes and hobbles over to the window. There's a bus turned over on its roof and another car crumpled in on itself in the middle of the road.

People are rushing out the hospital towards the accident; from where they are she can make out the blue streak in Santana's hair. Both vehicles are on fire, despite the pouring rain, the blaze just seems to be getting bigger.

"San? SANTANA!" Puck bellows.

"Puck! You're hurt!" She tries to pull him away from the window but he pushes her away, still staring out the window.

"Rachel! She's running _towards a car that's on fire!"_

"I know! Noah – but _she's_ a doctor! It's what -,"

"Fuck that!" He yanks his arm away from her grasp, ignoring the brace on his arm, pulling out the IV on in his hand and storms out the door. She curses and hurries behind him.

It's an uproar in the ER. There are people bleeding everywhere, it's loud and noisy and she feels like she's in the way but she can't get her brother to stop and calm down, so she follows him through the throb of people.

"Is my son in here? I can't find my son!"

She turns around to the frantic voice, and a woman covered in blood, hands clasped in front of her with tears streaming down her face is whispering, begging the people around her. She's frozen, repeating the same phrase over and over again and no one seems to be paying her any mind.

"I can't find my son! Is my son in here?"

A firefighter comes in and she recognizes the broad shoulders of Finn as he shouts for help and the woman is shoved to the side in the confusion. She rushes over to help her up but Finn gets there before she does.

She crouches beside them, touching the woman's shoulder as she stutters and tries to explain to Finn.

"I-, I've lost him. He's blond, five years old and wearing a Mickey Mouse t-shirt." She sobs and presses her fingers to her mouth. There's a cut on her cheek and her clothes are ripped and torn.

"Ma'am, are you hurt? Maybe we could get a doctor to take a look at that cut," she says. Finn nods and waves over an intern then moves out of the way. The woman grabs onto his hand before he does.

"Please! He was in the bus with us! He's only a little boy.. pl – please help me find him!" She sobs.

Finn's eyes lift to meet hers, both their gazes moving to the flaming accident outside the ER doors.

"Take her," he orders the doctor and gently disentangles the woman's fingers from his jacket. "Ma'am, I'll be right back."

"Gordon! Miller! Come on, we might have a body still in that wreckage!"

She follows after them, pushing people aside as one of the fire-fighters stop to help a wailing woman. Miller stops to help a man with a piece of branch sticking out of his side and Finn rushes towards the cars on fire on his own.

She slips, scraping her palm on the wet ground, scrambling to her feet as a small explosion bursts from the smaller car. Finn stops, shielding his eyes from the heat, then runs to the side of the bus, peering inside the windows.

"Finn!" She screams just as Miller runs up to her with one of the doctors and shouting to him.

He ignores their calls, jumping on top of the bus, trying to peer in.

He jumps in and waves to the firefighter who rushes over to help.

"They need to get away from there! It's going to blow!" She fights to get free, but the doctor grabs onto her but won't let her pass.

"Miss Berry! You know I can't let you go! It's too dangerous!"

She struggles, peering around him to watch as the firefighter helping Finn runs back with someone in his arms, behind him, Finn struggling to get out of the wreckage. The flames are creeping closer to the upturned bus and the other firefighters are screaming for him to get free.

"Wait! No! There's something else in here!" Finn shouts back.

She screams his name again as his broad shoulders disappear down back into the wreckage.

The doctor holding her back lifts her and heaves her over his shoulders, and runs back towards the shelter of the ER driveway and seconds later, another explosion throws them backwards, lighting up the wet night, a plume of smoke rising up from the entwined cars.

She collapses to the ground in shock, staring at the flames in front of her as two firetrucks finally arrive on scene, men jumping out into the fray.

It's too late.

Too late.

She's almost certain no one could survive that explosion and she tries to tell this to Santana when the woman drops down in front of her and grabs her hands in hers, but for once in her life, she's speechless.

She can't remember a time when she wasn't in love with Finn.

But he was her best friend. And he was in love with this perfect blonde lawyer for the past three years. So she didn't say anything. Because Finn was safe and funny and reliable and happy with Quinn, she didn't want to say anything. What if he didn't feel the same? What if he loved her only as Rachel? His buddy's little sister? She'd always figured it was better having him as a friend that him never speaking to her ever again.

Now, she could never tell him. Because the _stupid_ idiot had gone and managed to get himself _blown up_.

Hot tears spring to her eyes, mixing with the cold rain and she just sits there, frozen. Blinking wetness from her lashes.

It's too late.

Then suddenly, over the din of the spectators, the rush of the falling rain and the spray of two hoses, she hears a fireman shouting.

"We have a body over here! No! Two! We have – _it's Huddy_!"

She unfreezes, jerking to her feet as Santana helps her up, stumbling towards the crowd of people. One of the fire-fighters breaks from the crowd, carrying a small body wrapped in one of their jackets, and behind him, the crowd parts in two as two more fire-fighters emerge with Finn, an arm swung over each of their shoulders.

"Son of a bitch," Santana swears. She keeps one hand firmly around Rachel, who can't move, she just watches them walk pass into the ER, blood pounding in her ears.

Santana pulls her towards the doors, wrapping a dry towel around her shoulders. Her brother crouches down in front of her and she sees the look he gives Santana, curving his palm around the Latina's cheek before he lifts her chin to meet his eyes.

"Rach, you hurt?"

She's too stiff move, to respond.

Thoughts swirling around her head, warm amber eyes, dimpled smile, long fingers.

She jumps up and pushes her brother away, shrugging the towel from her shoulders and runs into the ER.

Frantically, she searches for Finn, finally seeing a huddle of fire-fighters off to the side beside one of the cots. She rushes over and pulls the curtain apart, relief flooding through her when she sees Dr. Shuester dressing a burn on Finn's arm, the other arm bandaged and hanging loosely by his side.

She rushes forward and pushes him.

"OW! Rachel –,"

"I hate you!"

"Hey!" Dr. Shuester pulls her back and she slips free, slapping Finn on the chest again. He winces, staring back at her with pain in his eyes.

"You could have died!"

He lets her shove him, gritting his teeth in pain.

"Don't you dare do that again! I'll kill you myself if you ever pull a stunt like that! Y_ou hear me Finn Hudson_!" She slaps at his chest with every word until finally one of the fire-fighters pull her away. Puck walks over and pulls her free and she falls to the floor in his arms, sobbing and sniffing as her body finally relaxes the stress she'd been holding in all day.

Her brother cradles her in his arms, his fingers combing through her wet hair as people bustle about around them.

She hears her name being called and looks up to see Finn, beckoning them over with his free hand. She makes to move away and her brother grunts and curses under his breath, but gets to his feet. He walks them over to the bed, and deposits her in Finn's arms.

Finn wraps his good arm around her, tucking her under his chin as she cries harder, burying her face in his shoulder. She feels him kiss her hair and she kisses his neck and she snuggles closer.

A part of her thinks maybe she can keep her best friend and maybe, they can be something more.

* * *

**A/N2: Why do my drabbles never actually****_ turn out_**** as just drabbles?**


	34. someday we'll get to that place

**A/N: I was listening to the song and thought of a thing and it became this drabble. It's supernatural!finchel of course, because c'mon.. I'm CJ.**

* * *

_someday we'll get to that place (where we really want to be)_

_ (based on Tamia's 'Stranger in my House')_

To be honest, nothing had really changed. She was really home.

Everything looked the same. His shoes were tossed carelessly inside the door, the picture of them with her tip-toeing up to kiss the scruff on his cheek is on the table just inside the front door, his keys were on-top of the fridge (she had to peek, to be sure – he'd started putting them there after her first accident on the bike and he knew she couldn't reach them without a stool, but whatever), her tote was slung over the kitchen door and her bright yellow polka-dot umbrella was just inside the kitchen door; it had rained the day… before. She remembers.

The house is quiet though, which is surprising seeing it rarely was when either one of them was home. Either she'd be singing or he'd be playing drums or Noah was watching the game or she and Santana would be arguing over clothes with Kurt and Mercedes.

She likes the quiet, it's strangely comfortable, but if she could have the boisterous comfort of her family, she'd take it in a heartbeat.

Still.

It's not like she has much choice in the matter anyway, so she'll take what she can get.

She ventures deeper into the house, past the empty music room and Finn's office, the carpet beneath her toes feel sinfully comfortable, and flashes of memories where she and Finn had.. lingered… It's overwhelming and she pauses, hand on the wall nearest their bedroom door. The second bedroom is just a few steps away from her and it feels like something is tearing away at her insides the more she looks at it. She pulls her eyes away, swallowing the feeling and rests her fingers on the doorknob to their bedroom, her fingers unnaturally pale against the wooden door. She takes a deep breath, steeling her nerves and pushes it open.

He's asleep, hand thrown over his bare chest. His hair is its usual messiness, and more than several days of scruff creeping over his face. He looks so young, just like the fifteen year-old boy she had fallen in love with all those years ago and a sliver of fear skitters over her spine when she realizes… she'd never grow old with him, she'd never have his babies – a girl with eyes like his and a little boy with his smile. She'd never get to go to all the place they'd talk about going and she'd never have any more lazy summers and winters where they'd spend all day in bed pointing at pictures from days in their pasts.

She stands there and just drinks in the sight and smell of him, letting every memory they'd had together wash over her before she reaches a hand out, her fingers tracing the worry line from his forehead. They disappear as her skin makes contact with his, and the stress and pain etched across his face melts away, right as he opens his amber eyes to blink sleepily up at her.

"Rach?"

Her heart shatters into little pieces at the sound of her name and she blinks away the tears, bending to kiss his cheek.

Finn sits up, clicking on the lamp beside the bed. A smile steals its way across his face and he reaches out for her, pulling her into the warmth of his arms.

"Babe? How come you're home already?"

She snuggles up to him, resting her cheek against his chest, tears springing to her eyes as she listens to his heartbeat.

He yawns. "Why didn't you call me to come pick you up?"

She can't talk, what could – _can_ she say?

"Rach?" He rubs his hands over her arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Babe, why're you so cold?"

He pulls up the blanket to cover them both, shifting on the bed so his body was curled around hers, offering some, if not all, of his warmth.

Her Finn. Her safe, brave, loveable – _alive _- Finn.

"Can we go to sleep? I'm tired, I just – hold me while I sleep?" she manages to get out. It's barely a whisper, but she feels him nod, and wrap her closer in his arms.

"M'kay," he murmurs sleepily. He kisses her hair and reaches over to click the light off.

"I love you Finn."

She feels his lips move over her hair, and she imagines his sleepily smile. "Love you forever Rach."

She rests her fingers over his skin, memorizing his heartbeat as he tapers off to sleep. She pulls up every happy memory they've had together and she watches her fingers glow as her thoughts flow from her fingertips into his skin. She lets her tears wet his skin, peeking up at his face, wishing she could glimpse his dreams.

She hopes he's happy, wherever his mind is. She hopes he's dreaming of her. She doesn't want him to be sad – of every single person she knows, Finn's the best of them. He deserves a lifetime of happiness, and it kills her that she won't be alive to see him get that.

She whispers to him, while he sleeps. Makes him promise her he'll be happy. That he'll find happiness after her. She doesn't want him to forget her, but she doesn't want him to be alone. One day he'll have the little girl with his eyes and a little boy with his smile.

She makes him promise to look after his brother and their parents. And Santana and Puck and Mercedes. She can't say her goodbyes to everyone, and the only person she wants to say goodbye to, she was right here in his arms.

She has until daybreak, when her wish ends. One last time in the best place she knows, and as cliché as it sounds, being Finn's arms is where she wants to spend the rest of her life. Literally.

She watches him sleep until dawn creeps over the horizon, as the worry lines slowly make their way back onto his face. She touches his brow and as usual, they disappear. She presses her lips to his, almost desperate to cling to him, to hold onto this moment, as reality wraps it cold hand around her heart.

She's pulled away though, yanked through the threads of dawn pushing away the night, welcoming the newness.

She feels the heat on her face, drying her dirty tears, hears the screams of the other people as the plane goes down. She keeps her eyes closed, no longer afraid of the inevitable, because really, she's not dying alone.

She's safe and sound in the safest place she knows.

* * *

**A/N2: (why does this seem like something that will need to be expanded tho? Egads!)**


	35. a million reasons to leave

**A/N: Finn has a nightmare, with an extremely dangerous ending. (AU Finchel)**

* * *

_i'm still here but there's a million reasons to leave_

It's just loud static surrounding him; this buzzing in his ears. It's dusty, stuffy and hot as fuck and he can barely see through the thick haze. He's been doing this long enough, he knows what to do. But honestly, you could have a million years of training and you would never be fully prepared for every single fucking thing. He crouches down behind a broken wall, looking around as he tries to figure out his options.

From somewhere behind, there's an explosion, dirt billowing around him and making visibility more difficult. He curls over on his side, seeking cover from smoke and flying debris from the destroyed wall, the loud stomping of feet stampeding behind him. There's a shout and the dull thud of a body falling beside him.

He doesn't look - he's out of ammo and separated from the rest of his squad, dumb move really, since all he was supposed to do was scout ahead – he just throws his elbow behind him, satisfied when it makes contact.

He spins around and straddles the enemy soldier, a big, burly man with skin like midnight and a scowl like death, wrapping his hands around the man's neck. The man struggles and tries to toss him off, scraping his nails over his fatigues, muffled grunts and gasps emitting from him as he struggles back.

"Finn!"

He blinks the sweat from his eyes, grits his teeth and throws all his weight behind his hands, squeezing harder.

More explosions go off behind him, and he grunts as someone jumps onto his back.

"Finn! _No_!"

He growls and tries to shake off the other attacker. He's big, he's strong and he doesn't plan on going down without a helluva fight.

He hears his name being called again, new voices mixing with the din. He blinks dirt and sweat from his eyes and inhales – crisp, clean scent of rain on a cool summer night. Confused, he hesitates, his grip on the man's throat relaxing slightly.

Suddenly he's knocked sideways, buried beneath several bodies and he's even more confused when instead of the hot, dusty desert beneath him he feels a soft, comfortable, worn rug.

"Jesus Christ! _Finn_!"

It's a woman. A woman's scared, shrill voice screaming his name.

He lays there, blinking up at the ceiling as the sounds of war fade into the background. It's raining, he can hear the drips against the window, the sound of New York awake and bustling outside, smell the orchid he had given Rachel a couple weeks ago and on either side of his legs and chest he can see Santana and Mercedes pinning him to the floor.

He turns his head slightly to the left and sees Tina shielding Rachel from him.

"Rach?" he croaks out.

Santana tightens her grip on his thigh and he grunts.

His girlfriend tries to push her best friend away, but Tina narrows her eyes and pushes her back behind her.

"Tina. I'm fine."

"No you are not!"

"Rachel, there are _handprints_ on your neck," Mercedes snarls, her eyes ablaze from her place pinning his arm to the floor.

Hot tears spring to his eyes and he feels so fucking _ashamed, _he wishes the ground would just swallow him whole.

"Santana, Mercedes, you can let me go now."

"Nuh uh Lurch, I already called Puck. You tried to kill my best friend?! You're lucky I didn't call the cops!" Santana spits out, her nails digging into his skin.

He winces and takes a deep breath before he speaks again, but Rachel beats him to the punch.

"Santana, let him go. You know he didn't mean it."

"Do I? Rachel -,"

"Santana – seriously, I'm so fucking sorry."

"Save it, asshole," Santana hisses.

"San -,"

"Rachel-,"

"No! Listen to me Santana!" He bellows angrily.

He sees Rachel flinch at the tone in his voice, watches her small hand grip Tina's arm in fright. He sighs deeply and lays his head on the floor, resigned to wallow in self-pity, the look on his girlfriend's face seared into his eyelids.

There's a dull thud from the hallway. Then loud banging on the front door.

"I'll go. Come on Rachel."

He hears the bed creak, and soft sobs as the two women leave the room. Slowly, Santana and Mercedes move away from him, but he doesn't move, he just lays there as hot tears fall, shame making his face burn.

"Finn. Whatever is wrong with you, you need to get help," Mercedes murmurs gently, just before his girlfriend's brother bursts into the bedroom.

"Hudson."

A chill creeps over him and he takes a deep breath, slowly sitting up to see Puck calmly glaring at him. Rachel stands a bit behind her brother, Tina beside her. The marks on her neck are faint, but he was the one who put them there and he looks down at his hands before staring back his tiny girlfriend in horror.

They'd often joke about the difference in their sizes, he could lift her easily in his arms and she often had to jump to kiss him on the cheek.

He feels dirty and horrified and _wrong_ as he looks at his hands – he can't even imagine ever thinking of hurting her.

But he did. Even though he can't _remember_ doing it.

"Finn."

He glances at his best friend, at the cold look in his eyes and gets to his feet as non-threateningly as he could, hands at his side.

He'd explain if he could, try to get Rachel and her friends to understand, but – he doesn't understand it himself. And he doesn't want to stay here any longer, not if she doesn't want him around. And by the look on her face, she's terrified.

He grabs his jacket and giving Rachel and her friends one last look, slumps out of the room, Puck right behind him, his girlfriend's quiet sobs following him out the door.

Puck doesn't say anything as they ride down in the elevator together, and still nothing in the car.

But as he follows behind the other man into their apartment Pucks stretches a hand out to stop him from coming in, turns to him and sighs.

"Listen, I've known you since we were four. You know I love you and if you were in trouble I'd help you in a heartbeat. But dude, this is my _sister_. There is _no_ choice here. So whatever the fuck is going on with you, you need to fix it before I take you to the morgue instead of home next time. You get me?"

He nods in response and watches Puck stomp off to his room.

He walks into his bedroom, the door clicking softly behind him as he slides to the floor. He'd never put his hands on a woman before and he never, ever wanted to hurt the woman he loves. He still doesn't remember what happened, one minute he was caught in a fight back in Qatar and the next… his girlfriend was staring at him with fear in her eyes.

He never wants to see that look on her face again. Or Puck's. He remembers the look Rachel's best friends gave him and something ugly twists inside him, spreading when he remembers the imprints of his fingers around Rachel's neck.

He hates himself.

He puts his head in his hands and cries, rage and shame burning their way through him as each tear falls.

* * *

**A/N2: So, I was watching Grey's, and the scene where Owen started strangling Cristina in his sleep, the ****_look_**** on his face, just about broke my heart. And then this thing happened.**


End file.
